


black mesa university wants YOU to enroll!

by pocketpauling



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Multi, benry isnt healthy. please., benrys kinda mean but its bc he has issues they work it out, i love benry's last name being lover dont talk to me, ill add characters as they show up i guess, teen 4 the swears. kids get out im sayin the f word in here, tommy baseball! tommy baseball player!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24658597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocketpauling/pseuds/pocketpauling
Summary: Black Mesa University - a public college in Roswell, New Mexico - home to the brightest minds of this generation. If only they could grow their campus a little bit, but, hey, when your school is best known for causing the Greater Texas Blackout of 1986, the government would cut your funding, too.Gordon Freeman gets a free ride scholarship to his dream school, Tommy's the local baseball star and sunshine-in-a-bottle fratboy, and Benry doesn't know what he wants to major in at all. Typical college stuff. You know how it is.
Relationships: Gordon/Benry (HLVRAI), Gordon/Benry/Tommy (HLVRAI), Gordon/Tommy (HLVRAI), Tommy/Benry (HLVRAI)
Comments: 141
Kudos: 351





	1. a prologue, of a sort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sophomore summer, end of the season.

**Black Mesa University of Science and Technology** , known simply as **Black Mesa University** or **Black Mesa** , is a public land-grant and space-grant research university in Roswell, New Mexico. It is the fourth largest university in the state of New Mexico, with an enrollment of 13,360 students as of Fall 2019. Black Mesa University is classified among "R1: Doctoral Universities – Very high research activity."[4] It is also a member of the Association of American Universities (AAU).[5]

Tommy knew the Wikipedia page for his university by heart. Not exactly by choice, but because he had spent so long trying to decide if that was really where he wanted to go in the first place, three whole years ago. It… it was science-y, and Tommy wanted to do something science-y, career-wise, he guessed, and - and, it had a great baseball program, if he was being honest. Tommy really could fuckin’ pitch in high school, and Black Mesa had offered him a scholarship for it, and he _knew_ he should have been really wary of that. He knew, because his dad was the president of the university and all, even if he swore he hadn’t nudged anything in his kid’s favor. People would talk, and people said some mean fucking things those first few months.

But, hey, now that he had been out on the field for three years, no one was complaining anymore.

He was a straight-A student, a real stand-up guy. A model teammate and, even though he was told not to get involved with it by his father, a model frat boy. The kind of dude who took the drink straight out of your hand if he knew you were underage. The kind of guy who brought his huge service dog with him to walk people home from parties when their designated drivers disappeared. Made sure everyone was okay.

Tommy’s fraternity had just been two guys at first, him and Darnold, one of his best friends from middle school, laying on the floor of their shared dorm room in his Freshman year. Underage drinking wasn’t something Tommy was really in favor of these days, but back then - well, he was a different person. He was an 18-year-old dealing with a lot of stress, and Sunkist wasn’t meant to help with _stress_ , though she did her best. 

He always liked the idea of a fraternity, in theory, but he knew why they didn’t work out. You can’t just let a bunch of rowdy guys run around unsupervised like that. You couldn’t. They’d hype each other up, they’d do something stupid, and everyone would stand around and watch it happen because they were too afraid to step in. People _died_ that way.

No, he just liked the friendship. The helping-each-other-out thing, like a permanent study group. A family, kind of. One that you chose to be a part of, one that helped you and expected you to help everyone else, if you had the means. A cool kind of… commune. Or something. That’s what it was, right?

It was ideal, honestly. It was a dream. People needed support in college. Shit was stressful enough. And, if Darnold would be down for it, maybe they could convince his dad to think about allowing it. He could be so stubborn about things, even if Tommy had thought out every single thing that could possibly go wrong. He was so -

“YO! TOMMY!”

Ah, fuck. What day was it? Where was he?

It was dark out, now. Vance Stadium. Top of the 9th, 2 on, 2 out. Had he been zoned out this _entire_ inning? He hadn’t remembered pitching at _all_.

“TOMMYYYYY! STRIKE HER OUT! OR WHATEVER YOU CALL IT? BASEBALL!”

Yeah, yeah. Benry was shouting at him from the dugout, top of his lungs, and - who let him in there? He wasn’t on the team. He had refused to try out every single time Tommy asked him to, and he _hated_ the rest of them, so…? Had he just forced his way in there, or…? 

Didn’t matter. Didn’t matter, had to focus. Two on, two out. They were tied, 4 to 4. Black Mesa Scorpions versus the Aperture Cooperative Testing Initiative, their bitter fucking rivals. A decades-long conflict that was always one vital and fragile contract with the government away from causing a full-on fight right there on the green, and in the stands, and the streets, maybe. Sports fans got like that.

The woman up at bat - the same mute woman that he always just fucking hated facing - was smiling at him, wide and predatory. The catcher behind her was signalling something, something Tommy had momentarily forgotten how to read. What did they want? What did 3 fingers mean, again?

Pitched it too far inside, entirely on accident. Barely missed her, flying just in front of her stomach, and, Christ, he was just glad she hadn’t leaned into it, like Aperture players tended to do. In fact, she hadn’t even _flinched_. What the fuck was her problem?

Full count now, he guessed. She looked confident, like she thought there were only two paths this road could take: walk to load the bases, or, uh, she was going to swing like she meant it at whatever he threw at her next, no matter where it was, and he was honestly terrified that she would do it and _succeed_. Aperture must be really sure they can hold them down into the 10th. 

Yeah, fucking - whatever. Deep breaths, Tommy, you’ve done this plenty of times. Doesn’t matter how much her staring freaks him out, or how many times she’s played him like a fucking fool, or how many times it was his fault, and _only_ his fault, that they lost to this terrible team from fucking _Ohio_ , of all states. Ohio! No good teams _ever_ came out of Ohio. Ohio was where baseball went to _die_.

Low and inside, too far, again, she was going to walk and it was all his fault - or, uh, maybe not? 

She swung, _hard_ , like she thought she was going to take it deep, falling to a knee in the process, and - God. That was it. That was the top of the ninth, that was… he wasn’t due up at bat unless they’d manage to work their way through 7 players.

The woman... Chell, he figures, considering what her teammates were yelling at her as they all piled on her for having the gall to miss a tiny, fast ball with a thin stick. She looked at him like he was the Devil, but also like she’d enjoyed their exchange nonetheless, which was… a relief, almost. It was a combination of smiling and scowling that made him kind of uneasy - but it was rude to not return a smile, so! Maybe that was just how she was. Not all players from Aperture had to be bad, you don’t know what she’s been through. 

Benry was hopping up and down in the dugout, waiting for Tommy, and, the moment he stepped down the steps, he nearly tackled the guy in a hug. Benry almost _never_ gave hugs. He also never really came to games, so that might have something to do with it.

“TOMMYYY!” His face was in Tommy’s jersey, muffling his shouting.

Tommy was still too surprised by the sudden display of affection to react to it properly, so he just patted Benry on the head, on the baseball hat he’d let him borrow a few hours ago, telling him, “There’s no - you don’t have to yell, Benry, I’m right here.”

Benry removed his face from Tommy’s jersey so he could look up at him with maybe the most excited look Benry’s ever given anything besides a TV screen. “That was so... cool? Why didn’t you tell me you were _cool_?”

“We haven’t even _won_ yet, Benry! There’s still half an inning, and, uh. Maybe more after that, if we don’t score.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, and I’m being pulled soon, anyway.”

“Huh?”

“Yup.”

“Wha - they can _do_ that? Just… replace you?”

“Sure can.”

Benry was on his tiptoes, cupping Tommy’s face in his hands, mumbling, “But - you were so cool… how could they replace you? That’s not very gamer of them.”

Tommy just snorted - he couldn’t help but laugh at Benry’s insistence on not learning how baseball works, even 2 years into their friendship. Some things never change. He leaned down, bumping his nose against Benry’s, just… a tiny friend thing. Something friends did.

The new guy who played 3rd base, the - who were they? Lex. Lex clapped Tommy on the back in celebration before telling him, “Ey, Tommy, no kissing in the dugout!” 

Who even said there was no - yeah, okay, maybe that _was_ the rule, but he wasn’t trying to _kiss_ anyone, he was just - 

“Oh, that’s a rule? You know, rules are made to be broken, right?” 

Benry pulled Tommy down, right hand now on the back of his head, into the most comically loud kiss he could manage, like a Looney Tunes character. Like a joke, a funny joke at Tommy’s expense, where he looked like an idiot in front of his teammates while Benry laughed at how red his face got, which, of course, he did. Of course, Benry pulled away, still making kissy noises and giggling at how funny he thought the whole thing was. Laughing at Tommy’s dumbstruck reaction and the reaction of the team around him, who were hooting and hollering like they’d just seen something a _lot_ more risque than a joking kiss.

It was a joke to Benry. That kind of hurt, but... oh well. Benry was a mean person, and if he saw a weakness, he took the shot. Tommy just assumed he’d been too open with how he felt, and it made him an easy target.

He decided that maybe he really, really liked mean people. Like, a lot more than he should.

They won that game with a walk-off, and Tommy and Benry parted ways for the last time until that fall. He’d insist he couldn’t stay, had to pack for his flight home to wherever he was living during break, and, hey, they’d see him next year, yeah? Next year was their Junior year, too. Gonna be busy, gonna be exciting. It’d be great. No one could possibly ruin it, or anything.

Yeah, it’d be fine.


	2. brand new problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> benry you are a terrible person

It was a week into the semester before Benry showed up on campus, though he hadn't even had the decency to come and see his best friend. He had the bad habit of rolling into town late, and going to class even later, but a week - a week was pushing it. And he wasn't even answering his phone, now. He'd just sent a simple, minimalist, on brand "back" and just, like, turned off notifications again.

Tommy had given up texting him for the night, falling asleep while trying to push the anxiety down. He knew Benry never meant to do this to him, and he didn't want to push him to explain why he would just… go silent on him, disappear off the face of the Earth for months at a time like that. Benry wouldn't even acknowledge it. They both knew it was a waste of time.

No dreams. He hadn't been asleep long enough for his mind to even consider dreaming.

He woke up to a weight on his stomach, and fear immediately gripped him - sleep paralysis? He grew out of that, why would he be having it now? Had Benry freaked him out that badly? That his brain just decided to continue to fuck him over?

The only problem was that he was able to move his fingers. This was a problem in that it meant someone was sitting on top of him, and it was  _ not _ Sunkist. Sunkist wasn't this short.

"Hey, Tommy, wake up."

The figure was whispering, like he didn't know whether he wanted Tommy to actually be awake or not. Which of his - this couldn't be Darnold. Too small to be any of his close friends in the house.

"Tommyyy, walk me to McDonald's…"

Tommy groaned, realizing exactly who had just broken in, at - Jesus Christ. The alarm clock on the nightstand next to him said it was 4 in the morning. Benry had broken into Tommy's house, is currently...  _ straddling _ him, and is complaining about McDonald's at 4 in the morning. 

Nothing about him made sense. No single fucking thing Benry ever did made any bit of sense, and it was one of the most surprisingly endearing things about him.

"Benry, get off."

"Take me to McDonald's?"

"Class in the morning."

"So? Want a Big Mac. Freesh fries."

Tommy huffed, trying to hide his laughter from them. If Benry smelled just a hint of amusement, the tiniest smile, he'd take full advantage of it. "Tired, Benry. Go to bed."

Benry leaned forward, placing his right hand on the pillow, right beside Tommy's head. "No. Big Mac time, baby. Gonna get a 20 piece chicken mcnugget."

God, was Tommy grateful you couldn't see color in the dark. This was almost… too intimate, even as far as Benry went, which was usually too far in the first place. He had no boundaries, no sense of what he did to other people. Tommy couldn't tell if he wanted Benry to stop leading him on or, uh, whatever the alternative was. Lead him right to his death. Tommy would follow Benry off a fucking cliff. 

That wasn't healthy, probably. But, hey. Tommy's got issues. Abandonment and all. 

The way Benry said 'baby,' Tommy knew it was a joke. Still hurt, though. Just a little bit. "'S a lotta food, Ben. Make you sick."

"Thought we could share? It'd be romantic."

He smiled, couldn't help it, and hoped Benry couldn't see it in the dim lighting. The guy was too likeable, too adorable to be mad at. What was he even mad about? Benry not texting back? What was he, some kind of clingy boyfriend? Benry would call that cringe. Or, uh, whatever word he used. Was it cringe?

But Benry had his reasons. And if those reasons were private, even between the two of them, they have to be serious enough for him to let it go.

Didn't mean he was going to McDonald's, though.

He reached up, grabbing onto Benry by the front of his shirt, and dragged his ass over to the side of the bed, so he could hug him. Like… platonic spooning. Sure. If Benry was gonna play hardball, Tommy could do the same. And, with the way Benry stilled, he could assume it worked. 

* * *

Gordon Freeman, 18, former track star, current physics major. Planner extraordinaire. Could do anything except get into MIT.

MIT was overrated anyway! Them and their whitewashed private school campus could shove it, for all he cared. Black Mesa University was the best possible public university for his degree program, and he was so fucking excited to get in and forget everything his parents ever said about any other college he could have chosen.

Black Mesa had practically begged him to join, anyway. Offered a free ride, once they saw his grades and his test scores and where he came from. See, here's a school he could really get into. A school that wanted him there.

He did, however, immediately regret applying when he walked into class to "Hello, Gordon!" every single day. 

How he managed to get the chaotic head of the Physics Department for nearly every class was beyond him - he'd stacked his schedule so high with the most difficult classes he could take immediately, but if they were all this guy, then… God, it was enough to make a dude quit school forever.

Okay, that was mean. Professor Coomer was a fun person, he just picked on Gordon a bit too much, maybe.

It was the first class of the second week, eight in the morning, and Gordon was too tired to even process the greeting as he passed his professor in the halls. He was too tired already. How did people  _ do  _ this? Go to college? For four or more years?

He was almost late, too. His roommate had taken too long in the shower, and he kept dropping his keys, and he forgot his entire  _ bag _ in his room. His bag! The one with all the important shit in it!

He'd lost his usual seat already, of course. Had to get here real early to grab it. Instead, he had to pick one at random - the anxiety of standing in front of the room and having to make a quick decision was almost enough to make him turn around and go home. Just drop out then and there, because the stress of it all was too much, too fast.

He spotted an empty seat a moment later, thank God. Right next to a tall guy in blindingly bright clothes, and a - was that a service dog? Cool, cool. Looked nice enough! Maybe he could actually figure out a study group situation or something.

He'd managed to climb his way up and to it before Dr. Coomer had finally entered the room and started role call, still trying to learn the names of all 60 people in his class. On top of all his other classes, too. Insane.

The tall dude next to him, he looked exhausted, even more so than Gordon did. Definitely looked like another freshie, too. Maybe he could make, uh, like, one friend? Was one friend fine?

Brain gave him a thumbs up. You get  _ one _ . One friend, if you can manage to talk to the guy.

He tapped on his desk, hoping that was enough to get his attention. Sure enough, it was.

"Uh, I'm Gordon." 

Tall dude looked kinda anxious, just a bit. He looked like he was getting more anxious by the minute, but he introduced himself anyway. "Hi! Tommy." 

"Hi, Tommy. Are you - "

"Coolatta! Nice to see you again!"

Tommy raised his hand at Dr. Coomer's call, keeping his attention on Gordon, who was too busy trying to remember where he knew the name Coolatta from.

"Coolatta?"

"Yeah, like... Dunkin' Donuts."

"Oh. Cool." That wasn't where he remembered the name Coolatta from, but okay. "So, uh, do you know where, uh. Where I can go to study on campus, like. The library must get packed, so if you know of any other places, that'd be great."

"Oh! Oh, you could - you should come to Lambda Alpha, you'd love it. Got a study group set up for this course already! Know some great tutors." 

"Is that - I'm not interested in a fraternity, dude."

"But we're a, uh, a cool fraternity. Chill. Don't even have to be a member, just come hang out!"

Dr. Coomer’s voice came from the front of the room, interrupting their conversation for just a second, "Freeman!"

"Here! Sorry, man, I just… terrible shit happens in frats. Don't wanna be part of one in any way."

Tommy hummed, obviously wanting to argue, but he let it go. "I can't change your mind, Mr. Freeman, but I think if you dropped by, you'd fit right in! "

Mr. Freeman? Christ, did he look that old? 

* * *

Halfway through the class, movement from the right side of the room distracted Dr. Coomer and the rest of the class from his lecture. 

It was a person, just standing there to the side, staring at the seats in the class, like Gordon had done not 20 minutes earlier. Stressed out, definitely. Short - shorter than Gordon by a good half a foot - pale as fuck, and dressed in as much black clothing as you could fit on a single human being. He was… Gordon was gay. He was gay, immediately. 

"Mr. Lover, so nice of you to join us for the first time this semester!"

"Yeah, yeah. Fuck off." 

Was he… allowed to say that? Dr. Coomer just smiled and turned back to the board, and - he was just allowed to say that to a professor. Okay. Sure. They must know each other, then.

The pale guy made eye contact with Gordon from across the room. It wasn't... nice. Wasn’t comfortable. Whoever this guy was, he wasn't happy with  _ him _ in particular. Christ, he hadn't even talked to the guy, and he already hated Gordon.

This Mr. Lover guy was moving towards him, now, too. Moving through the rows. A to B, straightest path possible. Gordon could see Tommy wave shyly out of the corner of his eye as he stopped, right in front of him, obscuring his view of the board. 

"That's my seat."

Gordon was both afraid  _ and _ gay.

"I've never even  _ seen  _ you before, how could it be - "

"I  _ always _ sit by Tommy. Move it."

Tommy fidgeted in his seat, obviously uncomfortable with what was going on, especially the fact that it involved him. "Benry, it's fine, I can - we can just move somewhere else so we can all sit together?"

"No, this is my seat. It's  _ always _ my seat. That's your seat, and this is mine." The guy, Benry, turned towards the front of the room. "Dr. Coomer! Don't I always sit here?"

Dr. Coomer didn’t even turn away from the board, didn’t look away from what he was writing, to answer Benry’s question. "Hmm. He does always sit there, Gordon."

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"Get up before I  _ make  _ you get up." 

There were giggles from his classmates, coming from all around him, people talking to each other and muttering under their breaths about him and it was - it was too much. It was too much for him to handle. It was deafening, high school all over again, and he couldn’t handle it.

He blinked back tears, grabbing his things as fast as he could, and bolted from the room. 

* * *

Tommy found him a few minutes later, hiding in the supply closet, sobbing into his backpack.

The sudden light from the hall caused him to flinch, recoiling and covering his face, just in case. Just in case whoever was coming in here was going to try and make it worse.

It was just Tommy, though. Voice soft, calm, like he'd talked countless people through panic attacks. 

"Hey, Gordon, you - you're not okay. Do you need someone to talk to? Or… uh, walk you to your next class? Or your dorm? Dr. Coomer said he understands if you want to just go sleep or something."

Gordon couldn't even get his breathing under control well enough to respond to any of his questions. God, he was pathetic. It's only been a week, and one embarrassing thing had tipped him over the edge.

"Are you okay with touching?"

Huh? Like… huh? He nodded, mostly out of confusion, and Tommy moved to put a hand on his shoulder. He hadn’t even  _ touched  _ him when Gordon flinched away instinctively, and Tommy withdrew his hand in an instant, like he was afraid that he’d hurt him, somehow.

Tommy moved to sit cross-legged in front of Gordon, hands fidgeting in his lap, unsure of what to do with them. "Uh, sorry. Some people find physical comforting more effective than verbal comforting. At least, that's what the, uh, that's what the textbooks said..."

"It's fine, just… maybe not. Maybe no touching."

"Okay! Can do." 

Tommy sat there for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to talk about Benry to a complete stranger. People who didn’t know Benry just assumed he was an asshole for fun, but Benry was just… coping, badly. Badly coping.

"Sorry about... him. He's not usually like this." Tommy looked down at the floor for a second, before looking back up at Gordon, "Actually, yeah, he is usually like this. But he's going through some stuff. He didn't mean it. I know it doesn’t make it any better, but he’s just… he’s dealing with things.”

“No offense, but I don’t fucking  _ care _ ,” Gordon grumbled, pulling his knees up and pushing himself back into the corner of the closet, nearly hitting his head on the shelving in the process. “I don’t care what his reasons are.”

Gordon knew he probably shouldn’t be saying this to someone who seemed to be a close friend of this… Benry dude, but, like he said, he didn’t care. He didn’t care about Benry’s feelings, or Tommy’s, even, no matter how nice or friendly or cute the guy was.

“Fair.”

“Huh?”

Tommy smiled, sadly, almost. “I get it, Benry’s - he’s not nice. Not to... people he doesn’t know. I understand. But - hey! You should give me your phone.”

“What? Wh - why?”

“So I can put my number in it?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Okay.”

Gordon struggled for a few seconds to find his phone in his bag, and then struggled again to get the new contact screen open before shakily handing it off to Tommy, who plugged all his info in. His tongue was sticking out, like he had to focus while typing, and it was cute. It was cute, he was a cute guy, that was fine. It was fine to find a random stranger attractive. Normal people did that.

The guy was putting his number into Gordon’s phone, though, so was he a stranger still? Maybe he could just… ignore him. Drop the class, never talk to the guy again. Tommy wasn’t going to know his number, so, if he just didn’t text him in the first place, they’d be strangers still. No friends. Here to learn, not make friends. Why did he think he could make friends?

Tommy took a quick selfie to use as an icon for the contact, and, God - he’d have to delete the contact entirely. At least change the icon. But, uh. He could keep the picture, sure. He would just… put it somewhere safe.

He handed back the phone, and Gordon took it back too quickly, but Tommy didn’t really notice. He was too busy standing up, dusting himself off. He’d - shit, he’d texted himself from Gordon’s phone, too. So much for pretending this whole thing never happened. No excuses anymore.

He looked up, and Tommy was holding his hand out, and - what? To help him up? To help him up. Sure. Gordon took it, and Tommy hauled him upwards like he was weightless, and led him back out into the hall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive been having a week long anxiety attack so 4give me if i didnt go into detail on gordon's
> 
> but yeah hi. welcome to my twisted mind *establishes benry as really mean and easily jealous* *sends him to therapy*
> 
> also i dont read anything i write so if none of this is good then sorry i cant read it. im illiterate


	3. worm on a string

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh no! its... text messenger formatting!

He had walked him to his dorm, of course. 

It was almost _too_ nice, something he was worried about - he’d barely been there a week, but he knew, he _knew_ no one here really cared about the strangers around them. How could they? It was human nature to be a bystander when someone needed help, or looked lost, or dropped a stack of books on the ground or whatever. The brochures all said there was this great, friendly atmosphere, and everyone cared about each other, but Gordon had seen. He’d seen someone literally drop a whole stack of books on the ground and watched as no one did anything to help. People were practically walking over the guy.

To be fair, he hadn’t helped either, so why was he complaining? Still, weird. Weird to help a stranger. Red flag.

Tommy was a lot faster of a walker than him, so, at some point in their trek across campus, he’d grabbed onto Tommy’s sleeve so he wouldn’t be left behind completely, hoping he wouldn’t say anything. Thankfully, he didn’t.

When he had told Tommy he was living in Mossman Hall, Tommy’s expression was one of sad recognition, and for good reason. It was the furthest hall from the center of campus, newly built to free up room in the upperclassmen dorms. The most amenities of any of the dedicated freshmen halls, but still. It was a fucking _walk_. Closer to stores and stuff, but was it worth it when he was going to have to walk it in the rain? Or wind, or freezing temperatures, or summer heat? 

It wasn’t even worth it right _now,_ honestly. He was trying to turn his face away from everyone else on the path around them, trying to hide his obviously puffy eyes, but no one really cared enough to look. He knew no one cared, objectively, but it still felt like people were staring. 

Well, they _were_ staring, but mostly at Tommy's service dog. Dogs, huh? Naturally eye-catching. So many of the people they passed recognized her first, and recognized the owner second. They were just shouting at Tommy, saying hi, asking him where he’s been, what he’s been doing, when’s the next party, man, are you good?

It wasn’t as though Tommy had really meant to ignore most of them, but he didn’t want to make Gordon any more uncomfortable than he already was by having strangers walk up and bother him. So, it was either keep walking or stress the panicked freshman out. Eh, he’d catch up with these people later. Didn’t even know half of them.

Gordon had tried to not speak much up until this point in the walk - he didn’t trust his voice to not give out, not make him sound like he was falling apart still. If Tommy looked at him like he was a hurt little kid again, he’d really break down right there, right then on campus. He didn’t need pity from a stranger. “Don’t you have classes? Like… you have classes right now, right? You’re missing them.”

Tommy didn’t turn around to look at him. “Oh, yeah, sure! But this is important.”

“I’m… this wasn’t more important than going to class, Tommy.”

“But it was! It was - this is important?” Tommy slowed down his pace for a second, looking back over his shoulder, down at Gordon, and - eugh, there’s the pity look again. “You were freaking out, helping you was the most important thing I could have done.”

God, if he could stop doing that, it’d be great. “Uh. Okay.”

Gordon put his head down, trying to make constant, direct eye contact with the pavement. Jesus, if people could just stop… feeling bad for him, that’d be great. He’d been through plenty of panic attacks, it wasn’t _fair_ that Tommy had somehow known exactly where to look. It wasn’t fair that he knew what to say, that he asked him if he could touch him, that he gave Gordon his number. He wasn’t playing fair. Gordon just wanted to disappear and never talk about it again, like always. It’s always worked before.

This walk felt like it was taking hours, but it’d only been about 15 minutes.

Gordon didn’t even realize that they were just a few feet away from the entrance until Tommy stopped walking suddenly, startling him into dropping the grip he had on Tommy’s sleeve, and his hand brushed Tommy’s and, oh my God, this is the most embarrassing thing _ever._ This was the _worst_ day he’d _ever_ had. It just keeps getting worse and worse.

If Tommy noticed, he didn’t give any indication. He just waited for Gordon to look up and see that, yes, this was Mossman hall. They were here! See, Gordon? It’s fine!

“Do you need me to walk you to your room?”

Huh? Why would he need him to - why would he _want_ to walk him to his room? “What? No, uh. I can handle that.”

“Okay!”

“Okay.”

As Gordon searched his bag for his ID, Tommy was looking at him. Like… _staring_ at him. Gordon can feel it, even though he couldn’t see it. Too busy looking for his ID, which was in his wallet, which was somewhere in the bottom of the bag, and - fucking, was it hot out, or what? Haha. Could this dude stop staring at him?

“Can you… stop?”

“Oh! Sorry, I - I was trying to figure out how to phrase something.”

Phrase what? What could he be needing to think about how to phrase? What was he planning? Why was he being so fucking _nice_?

Gordon dropped his bag on the ground so he could search it better, finally finding the angle he could reach the wallet with. Thank God this would all be over soon. “Phrase what?”

“You’re looking for your ID, right?”

“...yeah? And I... found it! So, thanks for - ”

“You can - there’s this cool - this great thing you can do - just, give me the card.”

He did, without thinking. Handed his ID over to this dude - no, not just his ID, but his entire _wallet_ , to this random stranger who just so happened to be really nice, and really cute. What the fuck. Was he really just going to stop thinking every time some random attractive guy told him to do something? That was a... problem, that was scary.

Tommy just opened the front pocket of his backpack, and slipped the wallet, ID facing out, on the inside. Zipped it right up, too. No sticky fingers, nothing taken. He didn’t even look at the ID, didn’t read it.

“Huh?”

Tommy was wringing his hands, and Gordon could tell they were equally anxious about this whole talking thing. Well, that was a relief. Tommy was just a cool dude. Not a weirdo. It’s okay. 

“You can just… uh, you can just hold it up to the sensor now, don’t even have to take it out! The wonders of technology.”

“Oh. Thank you?”

“No problem! Text me if you need any help, okay?”

“Uh, sure. I’ll do that.”

* * *

> hey benryyyyyy   
> you know whatttttt   
> freshie is kinda pretty with his eyes all puffy  
> that isnt meant to be weird!!! i just think it was cute!!!  
>  **Read 8:34PM**
> 
> **Benny** **♥♥♥**  
>  SHUP UP I HATE YOU  
>  **8:36PM**
> 
> aw come on you dont mean that do you  
>  **Read 8:37PM**
> 
> **Benny** **♥♥♥**  
>  I DO DONT TALKING TO ME!!  
>  **8:37PM**
> 
> benryyy i cant just leave a guy to cry in a fucking closet like that  
> its mean  
> speaking of mean, that was too mean even for you  
> like i get its your seat but you could have just asked he seems cool enough  
>  **Read 8:38PM**
> 
> benry  
> benry. that kind of sucked actually hes really nice?  
>  **Read 8:43PM**
> 
> **Benny** **♥♥♥**  
>  GO TALK TO YOUR NEW BOYFRIEND THEN I HATE YOU????  
>  **8:44PM**
> 
> boyfriend??   
> can i not call a guy pretty what is your problem   
> **Read 8:46PM**
> 
> **Benny** **♥♥♥**  
>  youve never called me pretty  
>  **8:46PM**
> 
> haha funny   
> **Read 8:47PM**
> 
> **Benny** **♥♥♥**  
>  fuck you  
>  **8:48PM**
> 
> oh youre being serious. ok   
> benry do you want me to call you pretty  
>  **Read 8:49PM**
> 
> **Benny** **♥♥♥**  
>  no  
>  **8:51PM**
> 
> do you want me to tell you how pretty i think your hair is or what benry  
> you have to choose now or never. i can stop if you want  
>  **Read 8:53PM**
> 
> benry???  
> are you coming to practice tomorrow  
> not the same without you  
>  **Read 8:55PM**
> 
> ????  
>  **Read 9:01PM**
> 
> ok benry goodnight ily  
>  **Read 9:07PM**

* * *

Gordon had spent most of the day sleeping, after he was taken back to his dorm. The day had been so, so stressful, and he’d barely managed to shoot an email off to Dr. Kleiner - uh, Bubby, as he insisted on being called - about missing his class that evening before he’d fallen unconscious.

Turns out, someone had already informed Dr. Bubby about the precise reasons he was absent. It couldn’t have been Tommy, surely. There’s no way he’d just… talk about some random stranger’s breakdown, right? Maybe he would. Gordon didn’t know him.

His phone buzzed and lit up on the pillow next to him - it was 9 in the evening, now, and Gordon was starting to feel really shitty about sleeping through everything. His whole schedule was going to be fucked up. Great! Great.

The text was from Tommy. Maybe they figured he’d text them first or something? Or maybe he was checking on him, or, uh, some other thing normal people did. Gordon did not text people a lot.

> ** Tommy!!  
> **hope youre ok!!!   
> and i hope its fine to text you right now though youre probably asleep  
>  **9:22PM**

Oh no. Oh, he had read receipts on, now he _had_ to text back, fuck. Well, at least… at least text was a better medium than speaking. Maybe he could actually act like a person.

He sat up in bed, fumbled for his water bottle, and texted Tommy back - maybe a _bit_ too fast.

> No i’m awake sorry hi  
>  **Read 9:23PM**
> 
> ** Tommy!!  
> **HI IM SO SORRY ABOUT BENR  
> benry.  
> im sorry about him he gets jealous  
> thought i was flirting?? i think??  
> or thought YOU were flirting  
>  **9:23PM**

Tommy was texting back fast, too. God, he’d distracted him from something important, _again_. Gordon downed the rest of his kinda-really-gross room-temperature tap water and fell back onto his pillows, thankful that his roommate wasn’t home to see how red-faced he was. Flirting? There wasn’t any flirting. They just talked.

They… Tommy _did_ give him his number, but that was _after_ the whole Benry thing. Was _that_ flirting?

Gordon didn't know what flirting was. He'd never experienced it firsthand.

> There wasn’t flirting??   
> Uh I guess it makes it better to know it wasn’t like  
> Targeting me specifically for being me though  
> Thats nice. Thats what most of the freaking out was about  
>  **Read 9:25PM**
> 
> **Tommy!!  
> ** no flirting!!! not flirting with you!!!  
> dont even want to!! gross  
>  **9:27PM**
> 
> Ah cool great.  
>  **Read 9:28PM **
> 
> **Tommy!!  
> ** NO i didnt mean it like that!! sorry i  
> youre like, cute i guess i just was not attempting to flirt  
> cute for a freshie. you know how it is!!  
>  **9:31PM**

No! No, this wasn’t the way he wanted the conversation to go, he just wanted to - he didn’t mean to write it like he was disappointed, he was happy that Tommy wasn’t flirting. So fucking happy. It was a relief.

The, uh, ‘cute’ thing, though - was he? Was he… cute? He closed his texts and opened up his camera app, lifting the phone as far away from his face as possible. It wasn’t too dark in the room for his face to not show up on the screen, and… well, that’s his face, alright.

Hello, Gordon! The consensus is that you are… not cute! Kinda still a bit baby-faced, _definitely_ doe-eyed - just an average, first year college kid. Cute, in like… the way puppies were cute, maybe. But not _attractive_ cute. Not that he could see the screen that well, what with the not having glasses on thing. But he knew. He’d seen his reflections more than enough times to know he wasn’t going to win any awards. 

The little notification light turned on, and Gordon remembered that, yeah, he was supposed to be texting Tommy right now, not complaining to himself about his average looks. The little text message thing popped up on the top of his screen a split second later, displaying Tommy’s message.

> **Tommy!!  
> ** oh!! you should send me a pic of you!!  
>  **9:34PM**

Gordon dropped his phone directly on his face.

Fuck, fuck. Okay. Maybe that was enough conversation for tonight. He’ll deal with it in the morning. Tommy could wait for a reply to… whatever the fuck _that_ was! Goodnight, phone. Goodnight, empty water bottle. Goodnight, Tommy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was like "damn this is short. this is short" its 2k words i think what the fuck. thats a lot longer than my usual chapter length. on other fics. maybe im improving
> 
> tommy and gordon. tommy and benry. tommy and gordon. flirt? maybe not. but hey when will benry steal tommys phone and see pics of gordon and then kill gordon himself?? maybe next chapter


	4. triple threat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just some setup for next chapter, texting focused story stuff, and some thoughts from the ben man on the situation. take a look in his hell head
> 
> cw some slight suicidal thoughts and bad brain stuffs from benry in his section. he doesnt act on them at all though!

Tommy woke up to 4 texts: two from Benry, one from Gordon, and one from his dad, which was actually the one that woke him up. 

Of course, his dad was awake at 4. He always was.

> **Dad  
>  **Practice today  
>  **4:55AM**

God, shut up. How many years has he been doing this? Tommy's never missed practice in his entire _life._

> i know im going to it??  
>  like literally always dad stop worrying about it  
>  **Read 5:14AM**
> 
> **Dad  
>  **Let me know how it goes  
>  **5:15AM**

The one thing (aka one of _many_ things) Tommy didn't exactly understand about his dad was his insistence on keeping time, being controlling about it, telling Tommy what he was supposed to do like he wasn't going to do it in the first place. It was infuriating and suffocating - it was like being told how to spell the word 'cat' when you already read at a college level. It was unfair, and it was _infantilizing_ and it _hurt_. 

He pulled himself out of bed, nearly tripping over Sunkist on his way to the bathroom. 5 AM was, generally, not the time Tommy _wanted_ to be awake at on weekdays, but he didn't have a choice. Even if practice was at 5 _PM_.

But he was used to it. Too used to it, maybe, he thought to himself, trying to find his toothbrush in the dark. In the dark, of course, because it was too early for the fluorescent lights, and the bright white of the bathroom, and looking at the trashcan and wondering if maybe it was time to take the whole house's trash out. Was it garbage day yet?

He checked his phone for the date, dimmest setting still making him squint, and forgot why he was checking it almost instantly. What made him forget was the little preview of an image, something Gordon sent him.

It was just… a picture. A picture he'd probably taken whenever he woke up, which had to have been early, and - the message said it was sent at 2 AM, so that's that on that. Was he sleeping okay? Starting college is tough on sleep schedules.

But the picture was of Gordon, it was one of those mirror selfies, and, God, he looked tired. Looking at his phone instead of the camera in the mirror, hair up in an extremely messy ponytail, lazy peace sign in the air and everything. Bags under bags under his eyes. Poor kid.

Not a kid. He had to stop calling freshmen _kids_ , it was awful. Made him feel like his dad.

He set the picture as Gordon's icon in his contacts, and filed it away in some folder somewhere in his gallery. Oh, if he was going to be texting Gordon this often, he should have his own folder! All his friends did.

Benry's folder was pushing 400 pics. Christ. Tommy had to learn to delete things. 

Well, that was 1 selfie of Gordon, safe and sound.

Tommy made uncomfortable eye contact with himself in the mirror as much as he was capable of in the dark, and finally found his toothbrush.

* * *

Benry had never been angrier. He had never been angrier at any two people in his _life_ \- besides his parents, that was a given. But Tommy… Tommy wouldn't do this. Tommy couldn't. But he did.

Like, maybe it was his fault. Maybe some of it was on Benry, just a bit. Not a lot, but some of it. It wasn't his fault he - he was so fucked up, so in love, but he didn't know how to show it. He'd been fucked up since a month into freshman year, when he'd idly pet Sunkist before realizing she was a service dog. He just thought she had a cool vest! And Tommy had talked to him about how Sunkist was fine to pet right _then_ , but don't ever do it again, blah blah blah. All Benry could look at were his eyes, and the way his mouth moved, and, uh, the gestures he made with his hands as he started talking about the history of service animals. He should have kissed him then and there. It was love at first sight, and Benry clung to it like it had saved him.

And Tommy had, in a way, saved him. He didn't even want to be at college, but it was his only way out. It was his only out until he figured out when and where and how to accomplish his _final_ out, and Tommy had knocked that thought right out of his head, gave him a reason to look forward to the future. Had fixed him.

Tommy had told him over cheap beer and pizza and a fucked up Streetfighter bootleg that he hadn't saved Benry. That that was unhealthy, a bad way to think of it. He hadn't saved anyone, and don't treat him like a hero for supporting him.

He didn't want to be put on a pedestal, but, God damn, if he wasn't a work of art. It was just about worth it to ignore his advice and continue praying one day he'll feel the same.

And Benry had thought last summer, that last game, he'd done it, but Tommy thought it was a joke. Which, again, his own fault. Benry played it off like a joke, but only out of fear. How embarrassed Tommy had looked sealed the deal, though - unrequited love was going to kill him. Kill him dead.

But, before that happened, he was going to kill this Gordon kid. Murder-suicides were justifiable when you drew the same pity look that was reserved for Benry. Tommy only looked at _him_ that sadly. It wasn't _fair_. 

Ah, maybe this was fucked up. 

He was staring at his phone from his location from the tub, dry and piled high with pillows and blankets. His single dorm allowed him the luxury of using the tub as his bed when he was feeling unsafe - high walls, low to the ground. Safe, safe, safe. Tommy had shown him this, said it helped when he was a kid, when his adoptive parents… fought. When it felt like nowhere else on the planet was safe.

Now, Benry was curled up in his makeshift bed, watching the phone on his sink to see whether or not Tommy would wake up soon. Benry had been awake all night, of course - he'll be skipping classes all day, or sleeping through them, at least. 

The text he'd sent to Tommy was one that he'd sent out of annoyance, and anger, and all those ugly emotions that made him unwantable, if that was a word? Tommy would tell him if it was a word, unprompted. He knew so much.

He'd told him that he was busy. Studying. Tommy would know something was wrong the moment he read it.

He let his eyes close, just for a second, and, when he opened them back up, it was bright in the bathroom. Bright like daytime, like late morning. 

He fucked up _sleeping wrong_. He really _was_ useless.

Struggling out of the tub was hard, but harder still was checking his messages.

> **tman  
>  **you dont usually study though??  
>  also its only been a week what are you studying for?????  
>  but if youre uncomfortable with coming i understand  
>  just know ill miss you?   
>  i thought you loved pitching practice  
>  free gatorade. free for the stealing  
>  **5:48AM**

Benry felt like his heart was caught in his throat. He'd said he stole Gatorade from pitching practice _once_ , a year ago, mostly joking. Tommy remembered it enough for a callback.

Oh, he really didn't deserve him. He didn't. He never could.

* * *

> Hey i don't know why i sent that picture so if you could just  
>  Pretend you didn't see it maybe.  
>  **Read 7:47AM**
> 
> **Tommy!!  
>  **oh i just used it for a contact picture!  
>  im better with faces than names  
>  i can delete it if you want??  
>  **7:49AM**
> 
> Oh okay if its for that then its fine i guess  
>  I should have sent a better picture. would have if i knew what it was going to be used for  
>  **Read 7:51AM**
> 
> **Tommy!!  
>  **dont worry about it its very you  
>  not that i know anything about you but its very. real  
>  you know!! not manufactured. hashtag no filter or whatever that old joke was haha  
>  i hate this.  
>  listen. it was cute ok?? youre cute its fine dont freak out about it please  
>  **7:52AM**

Gordon was smiling at his phone in the dining hall like a fucking _loser_ and he _knew_ it. And he, for once, _maybe_ didn't care! Didn't care who was looking at him, or what they thought, or how they'd talk about him or what they'd do.

Okay, he did. He cared so much, he'd moved to the nearly empty section, near the currently-closed salad bar, hoping no one would round the corner and watch him blush at a stranger calling him cute.

Cute. The one word that currently had the ability to ruin his life if he thought too hard about it. 

Maybe Tommy wasn't a stranger. Maybe an acquaintance. They'd properly met, right? Did helping him out of that closet count as a handshake?

Oh, God, don't phrase it like that. Gordon had been out of the closet since middle school, he didn't need any help on that front.

Shoveling eggs into his mouth didn't stop his mind from wondering if, uh, maybe Tommy was into guys? Just acquaintance things, wondering about sexualities. He'd talked like he and Benry were a thing, but then he'd… insulted him, kind of. Called him rude. Maybe they weren't together. Maybe Benry was just a clingy person.

Who cares about Benry? If a guy calls another guy cute, they're into guys, right?

Unless it was a dare. It could have been a - no, only high schoolers pulled that shit. Even if it'd happened to Gordon before, _multiple times_ , that didn't mean everyone was going to act like that towards him. It didn't mean it was going to happen again.

It may mean that he should be really careful about how he acted around Tommy. Frat boys. They're not… known for their positive opinions of gay people.

His phone buzzed on the table, another message from Tommy. Surely he had other friends? Someone else to text right now?

> **Tommy!!  
>  **oh hey i have pitching practice at 5??  
>  do you have classes then? you can come hang out  
>  make some new friends maybe i dont want to assume youre lonely  
>  but i know i was first year. first few weeks are the worst  
>  **8:13AM**

It was… sweet. And Gordon wanted to say no. He wanted to turn him down so, so bad. He wanted to say he was busy, busy doing laundry or going to the library. Or say he had class, surprise, sorry for disappointing you? Or he could just say no. He could just say _no_ , no excuses.

> Yeah sure just… tell me where its at? i haven't been to the field or whatever?  
>  **Read 8:15AM**
> 
> ****Tommy!!  
>  yeah sure i can walk you there! ill be over at 4:30 we can just walk and talk  
>  we love getting new cheerleaders itll be so much fun  
>  ****8:16AM

Ah, fuck. Gordon was going to be sick. Sick from… something. Nervousness, probably. His stomach was doing flips, and it took all he had to keep the shitty cafeteria breakfast down.

Five. He could show up, at least. It'd be fine. See more of the campus, meet a group of aggressive, tough guys, all strangers, and all so much taller and stronger than him. Sure. Doesn't sound like hell at all.

He was going to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "why are you posting this so soon" idk why are you. bullying me. whatd i do to u
> 
> gordon trying to get over being a target his whole life and dealing with paranoia and extreme stress vs benry unhealthy coping mechanisms for his unnamed trauma vs tommy being put on a pedestal by everyone he knows and getting overwhelmed FIGHT TO THE DEATH
> 
> i feel like im making tommy kind of more serious but its kinda riffing off the idea that maybe tommy *was* more serious back then, and then relaxed even more as he got older. dont worry hes a goofball still u all have seen
> 
> tommy trying to not make it weird calling guys cute he just defaults to calling guys cute constantly. the gay agenda...............
> 
> projecting tub as safe zone on benry and tommy moments. thats where i went in college to stop freaking out. it was ok


	5. goth boy fucks it up again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gordon and tommy get coffee, and then gordon has a breakdown fueled by extreme fear, and then benry shows up to make it even fucking worse
> 
> tommy decided already that gordon is entirely his responsibility now, since it seems like the guy has literally no one else to rely on

He couldn’t even keep his attention on his classes that day, instead focusing on the sick feeling he was trying to shove back down his throat, the one he couldn’t even justify. It was just a thing with a cool guy he barely knew. Other people would be there. It was fine.

Tommy was nice, he was trying to help out an obviously miserable student in need, that was all. It’s okay, there’s no reason for him to distrust him, or think he was lying, dragging him out to the middle of some field at 5 in the afternoon, alone, and - no! No, Tommy was nice, they wouldn’t be alone, there would be people there, it was safe. 

Gordon was going to bring his pepper spray anyway.

That was a given, since he’d carried it every waking moment, every time he’d left his dorm. Even  _ in _ his room, he kept it nearby. College horror stories were all his parents told him the months leading up to dropping him off, and it was - it wasn’t good for his mental health. He was a naturally anxious person.

He was currently anxious about whether or not what he was wearing was… appropriate? It was just a hoodie and jeans, that was normal, right? That was normal. Was it normal? Fuckin’ figures some random guy would have him questioning whether or not normal college clothing was actually normal or if he made that up. 

It was the lack of sleep, too. Made his head swim and second guess everything. He even ended up checking the text he’d gotten from Tommy multiple times that afternoon, making sure it actually happened. Not something he made up, again.

He was fine! This was fine. Maybe he should, uh, just wear a regular shirt, though? Yeah. 

In the middle of changing - not wanting to admit to himself he’d worn his hoodie without a shirt underneath, because… depression - he’d spotted Tommy through the window, standing around outside with Sunkist. A moment of panic, assuming that he was late, he’d left him standing there, waiting. He’d lost time again. 

A quick glance at his phone clock told him it was 4:06. Okay, it was fine. Calm down, Gordon.

He didn’t even wonder why Tommy was here so early in the first place. He was too busy pulling on his shoes and grabbing his bag - maybe this would be fun. It’d be fun, he convinced himself, running down the stairs so fast it felt like he was going to  _ fall _ . It’d be fun, and he was worried about nothing. 

He was breathing heavy when he finally made it out the front door, like 5 flights of stairs really fucking took it out of him. And it kind of did, after a long day of stressing and a long night of no sleep. Tommy looked almost surprised to see him.

He was waving, wide smile, authentic, like he really was happy to see him. Maybe he was. Gordon could hope. “Hi, Gordon!”

“Hey, Tommy, uh - why are you here so early?”

“Early?”

“Yeah, it’s 4?”

“Oh! I get anxious about being late. It’s a... problem.” 

Aw, cute. Cute that he was so worried about being late, he showed up 30 minutes early. That was… the sweetest thing an acquaintance had ever done for him.

“Oh, sorry.”

“No need to be sorry! If you’re ready to go, we can go… we can get coffee? Uh, before practice?”

“There’s a coffee place on campus?”

“Yeah, it’s on the way! I can show you.”

At Gordon’s weak nod, Tommy turned on his heels, a perfect 180, and led Gordon down the winding campus sidewalks, towards a building he’d never seen before, through the front doors, and stopped a few feet back from the counter, so they could stare at the menu. Tommy knew campus like the back of his hand, or - or, maybe, Gordon was just easily impressed by people who knew what they were doing, where they were going. He wished he could have that confidence. He wishes he knew enough to have the confidence.

Gordon was, of course, trying to figure out what he even wanted the entire time they walked there - this wasn’t Starbucks, he was so bad at coffee orders, he was going to just stand there like a moron who’d never ordered anything in his life. He didn’t know the menu, he couldn’t prepare. 

Tommy was talking, but he didn’t hear what he said. In fact, the only reason he realized that he said anything was Tommy tapping his arm, looking concerned, and… apologetic?

“Sorry, do you… do you need space?”

Did he need what? “What? Why would I need space?”

“You looked, uh… stressed.”

“Oh, I was just trying to figure out what to order? I’m fine. I don’t - I don’t really know what to, uh…”

“I can order for you, if you want? I do that for - I order for Benry all the time, it’s no problem. I get it.”

Gordon couldn’t even read the menu, at this point. He could read each letter individually, but none of them made  _ sense _ together, like they were all made up, stupid, couldn’t even read a fucking menu, couldn’t order for himself. Like a... kid. Like he was a kid again, asking his mom to order for him, because he was too anxious to do it himself. He was going to cry.

“Yeah, if it’s no problem.”

“Do you know, like - what’s your usual order? At, uh, other places?”

“I don’t… know?”

He thought for a moment, at Gordon’s response, and then gave him a quick thumbs up. “Alright, no problem! Surprise coffee it is!”

Tommy had grabbed Gordon’s hand, then - not… hard, or suddenly, or aggressive at all, but it had scared him anyway. He just put Sunkist’s leash in it, though, told her - or, uh, Gordon? - to be good, and walked away, left him there. Left him there, with this huge service dog, the one he needed to - he didn’t know what Sunkist was even  _ for _ ! What if he  _ needed _ her, what if something happened? 

He left her there, sitting next to him, because he was ‘stressed out.’ That was so… sad? Pathetic. Tommy had left Sunkist with him because he felt bad for him. 

* * *

It was... it was, like, caramel iced coffee, normal. But, like… too much caramel, almost. Not too much for Gordon, but too much, you know? The entire drink was too sweet, but how could he care? How could he care, when Gordon asked to pay him back, and Tommy just smiled at him, like he was being ridiculous? And, maybe he was. Maybe he was being ridiculous to want to pay him back for everything he’d done for him so far. 

The free coffee was almost too much to deal with as is. The niceness was just another layer on an already too-high cake. It was going to fall over, and Gordon would be left to clean up the mess.

He’s not exactly sure what Tommy had gotten, he was too busy trying not to fall apart in public again, but it was bright blue and looked  _ gross _ . But Tommy was happy with it, so, who was he to judge? He could drink whatever he wanted. Tommy could do whatever he wanted.

Gordon isn’t sure when Tommy stopped, but, when he turned to his right to talk to him again, to offer to pay  _ again _ , he wasn’t… there. He was a few feet back, staring at his phone, blank look on his face. 

Okay, maybe - uh, maybe there was an emergency? He hoped not. “Is everything okay, man?”

Tommy didn’t respond immediately, didn’t even look up, just frowned at whatever message he’d received and sighed, before catching up to where Gordon was - grabbing his wrist, and pulling him along with him. 

“Yeah, just - let’s get going! Don’t wanna be late.”

* * *

“There’s no one here.”

Tommy had wandered out of the hallway, the home team dugout entrance, and into the dugout proper to rummage around in a metal box on the wall. The lights flickered on in both the dugouts and the hallway, but the lights on the field were still dark. Hadn’t found the switch yet.

The field was  _ empty _ . There wasn’t anyone  _ here _ . Why wasn’t anyone here? 

“Yeah, so, uh - I just - they cancelled it while we were walking over, and I thought it’d be weird to just... turn around, and, and go home, so I - “

Gordon didn’t leave his place, from the relative safety of the hallway. He could run if he needed to. Where was his pepper spray? “Why did you  _ bring _ me here?”

Tommy was standing a good few feet away from him, worried look on his face. Worried for who? For Gordon? Why would he be worried for the guy he’d tricked into following him to a desolate area of campus? “I just wanted to hang out! I just wanted to be friendly and I didn’t want to disappoint you, and, I’m - I have to practice pitching anyway, and, I thought you’d want to talk while I - “

Gordon could run if he needed to, but Tommy would catch up. The realization felt like it turned his lungs to concrete. “So you just - what? You, you fucking... sports star and frat boy, perfect guy, brought some freshman you  _ barely know _ out to a place where no one would know we were there, no one would be able to find me if I - “ 

Tommy stuttered out an apology and backed up further, but Gordon didn’t want to hear it. Couldn’t hear it. Not when he felt like he was going to get jumped, not when he felt like there was someone standing behind him, ready to - to do  _ something _ , to hurt him, somehow. He didn’t know. He couldn’t even begin to think about it. He could imagine a million things - knives and bats and blood and - and - but all of it was too much. He was going to fucking shut down.

There  _ was _ someone behind him, and they chose that moment to kick the back of his heel, mumbling, “Chill, Freakman. Don’t talk to Tommy like that. Calm down.”

Gordon, of course, screamed. Screamed the best he could, with no air in his lungs, so it came out more of a squeak, a sad, pathetic sound that followed him as he fell forward onto the pavement. 

He wasn’t hurt, not from the fall, but he  _ was _ hyperventilating now, and it was getting worse by the minute as he turned to stare at - that goth kid again. The one who harassed him in class, the one that started all of this. His fault, his fault. Tommy’s stupid - Benry. Benry Lover.

What an ironic last name. Gordon would find it funny if he wasn’t too afraid to move.

Benry crouched down to nearly eye level with Gordon, who flinched at the movement, bringing his arms up to hide his face. “Aw, little baby Gordon, what are you so  _ afraid _ of? Tommy’s not going to hurt you. Idiot.”

Tommy wasn’t moving closer, wasn’t helping beyond a weak, “Benry, this isn’t funny. He’s  _ scared _ .”

“I can see that. It’s funny,” Benry smiled, all teeth, before grabbing Gordon’s wrists, turning him around to face Tommy. He didn’t look like he was in on the joke anymore. Tommy looked scared, too. “What’d you say about him? He was pretty when he cried? You should be thanking me.”

Huh?  _ Was _ Gordon crying? He could be. His face felt numb.

Tommy’s hands were fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, his face red, like this was the time for being embarrassed about that kind of thing. Hello? Tommy? He’s being harassed by some short goth freak? Are you going to do anything?

“Benry! I… I said - you’re taking that out of context, and you know it. Can you let him go? You’ve already put him through enough.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Benry huffed, pulling his hands off of Gordon, and - he could breathe again, just a little bit. Just a little bit. “So, practice cancelled, huh?”

Tommy brushed past Benry to kneel down in front of Gordon, and he - he looked like  _ he _ was about to cry. Sunkist was just behind him, laid down on the concrete, patient as ever, as Tommy rambled, “I’m sorry, I’m so - I don’t know why he thinks this is funny, he didn’t, he’s - Benry’s... bad at people, he wasn’t trying to hurt you, neither of us - I would  _ never _ hurt you, you don’t deserve - ”

His hands were - they were like, almost touching Gordon, but not. Like he was afraid. What did  _ Tommy  _ have to be afraid of? Of hurting Gordon? Of scaring him more? Aw, that was… nice. Thanks, Tommy.

Gordon was going to pass out. He was going to pass out from nerves, and anxiety, and fear, and how tired crying made him. He was so, so tired, so sick of college, so sick of existing, sick of being afraid of everyone and everything. There was one singular thought that his mind was capable of processing at that moment, and that was that, hey, maybe Tommy was… safe. Safe compared to Benry, at least. Safe like a bathtub. 

So he gave up, in his panicked state, and practically  _ threw _ himself forward, directly into Tommy’s arms. Fuck what he was afraid about earlier, Tommy was good. Tommy was soft, and comforting, and he was humming as he pulled Gordon closer, into a real hug. Gordon knew he was sobbing into his shirt, but Tommy didn’t even care. 

Tommy was so nice.

Benry was not nice. “Christ, get a room.”

If tonal mis-match could kill, it would have killed Benry in that moment. Tommy’s words and actions were so much an oxymoron that they should have cancelled each other out, nothing left to do or to say. But Tommy kept holding Gordon until his breathing returned to normal, and he was telling Benry to shut the fuck up for once, please, God. Except, without the ‘please’ part.

Benry knew Tommy was honest, blunt - in a nice way, though - but he’d never been so… aggressive, not in the entire time he’d known the guy. Must have really fucked it up now.

“Shut the fuck  _ up _ , Benry, you know this is your fault.”

It was startling, but not enough to make Benry consider apologizing. Why should he care how some idiot reacted to his joke? “Whatever! Just… like, pitch, or whatever. Don’t know why I’m here. Not even any Gatorade. This is sucks.” 

It took a few more minutes of hiccups, uneven breathing, and Tommy’s endless apologies for Gordon to pull away and wipe his eyes, finally calmed down enough to realize that maybe, at first, he’d overreacted. It didn’t justify Benry’s actions, but he’d accused Tommy of wanting to hurt him, and that was too far. Not fair to him. He wanted to stay, he was so sorry for fucking it up.

Tommy didn’t want to hear apologies, wouldn't take them - he just helped him up, held his hand, and walked him out to the center of the field, sat him down in the grass behind the pitcher’s mound, and pretended not to notice when Gordon whined at the loss of contact when he walked away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoehorning mean benry into this fic at every turn. benry who cant process the fact that maybe gordon has a reason hes so afraid, benry too focused on his own trauma to even think that maybe other ppl have problems too
> 
> gordon had a bout of what i get occasionally which i call "oh fuck this stranger is going to murder me im going to die time to have a breakdown" paranoid anxiety, which used to shut me down permanently for a few hours and fuck me up for weeks on end in college, if no one was around to help me. it sucks but i always felt so silly for it afterwards. gordon is being taken care of tho. tommy helpful moments. tommy understanding moments
> 
> "tommys arms soft and warm like mashed potato...." - my partner thank you guy ily
> 
> dw he gets to show off to 2 guys how fast he can pitch a based ball next chapter itll be chill in comparison. just some guys talking. guys hanging out. guys subtly flirting maybe


	6. put a funny joke here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tommy wants to talk, benry feels guilt, and gordon thinks about crushes

Tommy talked to Gordon the entire time he was leading him out to the grass, but he knew the freshman wasn't listening. Too lost in his own little world, too stressed out to focus on walking and hand holding and talking and listening at the same time.

He did his best to ignore the sound Gordon made when he let go of his hand, let go of Sunkist's leash as she settled in next to him, choosing to dedicate his energy to sprinting back to the dugout, back to Benry.

Benry was going to get an earful about this, this time. He'd never acted this outright cruel to anyone who didn’t deserve it before, let alone a random guy who's _obviously_ stressed out of his mind.

He made sure Benry could see it when he made his way across the field. The way he paled when they made eye contact was almost _funny_. Benry was supposed to 'not have cringe emotions,' or whatever he said about himself.

Not even apologetic, just scared. Maybe he should be. 

Tommy practically vaulted the dugout railing instead of just walking down the steps, a few feet to his right.

"Hey, woah, what's with the - there's stairs, bro."

The way Benry flinched when he moved towards them hurt Tommy’s heart. Just a little bit. Maybe a lot of a bit. "Yeah, stairs. Benry, we - we have to talk."

"Is this going to be about last night's Nintendo Direct, or is this about the freshie?"

"Which one do you think I want to talk about right now."

"Well, I think it's great to finally get a new Pikmin game, even if I never was a fan of the series, and - "

Tommy reached out to grab Benry’s arm, not wanting to hear about fucking _Pikmin_ right now. Benry would see an out and take it, and he would _not_ give him that out. " _Benry._ "

"What? He's fine. I didn't hurt him."

"You... did? You did hurt him? He was so _scared_. Benry, _I_ was scared."

"Why would you be scared?"

Tommy didn't respond.

"You thought I was going to - to hurt this kid. You - that's not - Tommy, you _know_ me."

"I know you. I know sometimes... you don't have complete control over your emotions, and you're capable of doing the same terrible things as anyone else if you're upset enough."

"That's not fair, that's - "

"Benry, I believed that you wouldn't do anything, but I was scared that… that you would _anyway_. It wouldn't be the first time you've surprised me."

"I'm - " Benry made a low sound, a low hum. Miserable sounding. He gritted his teeth, mumbling under his breath, almost too quiet for Tommy to hear, "Fine, I'm _sorry,_ I guess. I didn't want to actually scare him _that_ bad."

Tommy tried not to smile at the admission, but it was tough. It may not have been genuine, but it was a step in the right direction. "I'm not the person you owe that apology to. And, uh, maybe rephrase it."

"I… maybe. Are we good?"

"When Gordon gets the apology, sure."

"God, why is everything about the - he's just a stupid guy you just met."

"Two years ago, _you_ were just some stupid guy I just met. He needs… help, help with adjusting and stuff. He reminds me a lot of you."

Benry visibly recoiled at that, muttering, "Gross. Don't ever say that to me again."

"Only if you stop using my texts as ammunition in… whatever weird arguments you want to have with people."

"Oh my God, that was 10 minutes ago. Let it go."

"You're jealous of him, huh?"

"... no."

It took every ounce of willpower Tommy had not to pull Benry into a hug - he knew he wasn’t in the right head space for it. He felt almost… _bad_ about it, bad that Benry had felt the need to be so violently defensive of their friendship. That Benry didn’t think just talking about it would fix it, even if it definitely _would_ have.

"You know I can't replace you, Benry. I wouldn't want to. One of a kind, priceless best friend."

"Goddd, shut uppp. I hate youuuu."

"Come here and help me pull the pitch clocker out. Shit's heavy, can't do it on my own."

* * *

Benry helped Tommy set _everything_ up, actually. He complained every moment, but he did it, would do anything Tommy asked.

Even apologize, maybe.

Even if it didn't make sense why Tommy was so enamored with this guy in the first place. Tommy just… was drawn to useless people, maybe. Or, maybe, he just liked to help. Tommy was so good at helping.

Tommy was so good at helping people.

Benry was watching him get the tracker up and running, the one Darnold's friend built specifically for the team - some French guy, someone Benry hadn't cared to meet. Not important. What _was_ important was the face Tommy made when he was focused, the face Benry loved to make fun of and the one he kind of really wanted to make out with. 

He'd been on the receiving end of that face before, but it was mostly when Tommy was on the brink of going nonverbal and needed to put his sentences together, a puzzle Benry knew all too well. God, he wanted Tommy to just… look at him. Like, all the time. 

Bubby had called him attention starved before - called him on it when he drove Benry home the day he ended up stranded downtown with a twisted ankle (long story) - but Benry always denied that. He wasn't lacking for attention, and he certainly wasn't lashing out because he wanted _more_ attention. He wanted less! Less people looking at him. More Tommy looking at him. Yes, thank you. Please.

Benry is not an introspective person. He simply isn't equipped for it. He may _never_ be.

Tommy got the display to light up, finally, and pushed it into place over home base. Benry knew he wasn't supposed to do this out here, not on the green. They had a bullpen for it and everything, but Tommy liked the authenticity. Had an easier time keeping himself in check when it was the real deal. Said it was fine as long as he put everything back the way they found it. Even Tommy bent the rules a little bit, sometimes.

The machine itself was… a rectangle, for the most part. Strike zone right in the center, padding replaced just a few weeks ago.

They had it hooked up to a screen to read it from a distance better, broadcasting the miles per hour of the last pitch thrown. It had other settings, but those weren't important right now.

Benry had no fucking idea how it worked. He did know that they paid a lot of money to the guy that built it.

Tommy made Benry drag the huge ass bin of baseballs out to the mound while he changed shoes. There wasn't any reason to change into his uniform, but the shoes were important. Important to throwing right, or something. Consistency.

There was something about baseball uniforms, though. Something Benry liked. Something Benry _really_ liked, but he'd die before he let that one slip. Even if Tommy ever decided to love him back, that one was tucked away in his _secret_ folder, where he was also stashing photos of Tommy in said baseball uniform. Because, uh, reasons. Memories. Scrapbooking. A very not weird scrapbook.

Tommy wasn't wearing the uniform today, though. Just his normal clothes. And the hat, and the shoes.

Benry wouldn't ogle him, then. He'd just do the same thing they usually did, when Tommy was up far too late and he didn't have anything else to do besides throw a ball at a wall for hours. He laid down 3 feet in front of the pitcher's mound to watch the ball fly over his head.

Back when they first started hanging out, Tommy hated this. He was so worried he'd get hurt, somehow. Tommy could pitch triple digits, and he didn't need Benry sitting up suddenly and getting a permanent brain injury.

Benry didn't care. It was cool to see something move a hundred miles per hour right in front of you. It was cool, and he wasn't missing out on Tommy's weird pitching stance. Didn't matter.

* * *

From Gordon's perspective, none of this made any fucking sense. He didn't know baseball, beyond the fact that his father yelled at the TV every time the Rangers played. Didn't you pitch in regards to… a place? Over the, uh, the plate? Why was speed so important?

While Tommy was winding up for the first throw, Gordon asked him exactly that.

It knocked him off balance, just a bit, surprised at the sudden voice from behind him, and it took him a second to answer.

"It's - the batter - “ Tommy stopped talking, trying to put his thoughts into words, and decided that it was too complicated to bother. Had to simplify it. “Just, uh, throw fast enough, and no one can hit it, since, uh… human response time."

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah."

Tommy gave him a confused look, like he was worried about him. Gordon gave him a thumbs up, smiling, the calmest he’d ever been. The post-panic high had hit him real hard, and he was so much less stressed out. The crying had been cathartic, and it was nice of Tommy not to beat him up for showing any kind of emotion.

It was nice of Tommy to not tell him to go home, too. He was worried about that - it was embarrassing when a guy accuses you of trying to hurt him, then crying in front of him, and then, like, hugging him for 5 minutes? That wasn’t a cool guy thing to do. Tommy was cool, was popular with people. He shouldn’t have to deal with some fucked up trauma some guy he barely knew had all bottled up inside of him.

Gordon hadn’t _meant_ to have a nervous, paranoia-fueled break, but it happened. He thought he was over them, but he _wasn’t_.

Tommy pitched so alarmingly fast. So impossibly fast, Gordon couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Benry, from his dangerous position in front of the mound, chirped out numbers before the big pitch machine could read them out. It felt instantaneous, calling the speeds out as soon as Tommy let the ball go.

“89 on a fastball is kinda slow, T.”

“Shut _up_ , Benry.”

“Maybe if you throw faster.”

“Ben, I’m warming up.”

“You’re sucks at baseball now, is what you are. Lost all your epic skills over the summer, huh?”

“Benjamin.”

_Benjamin?_

“Don’t, _Thomas_.”

“Fine! Fine.”

“92.”

The machine’s display lit up a split second later - 92 mph. How Benry did that was also something Gordon couldn’t wrap his head around. 

There were maybe 20 things Gordon was thinking about at that moment, not the least of which being Benry’s weird miraculous speed-clocking abilities, but… there were other things, like school work he had to do, groceries he had to go get, and - and why, exactly, was he still sticking around after that? Him or Benry. Either one. Why hadn’t either of them decided to leave? 

After a moment, he just figured that, to Benry, this must be normal. To Gordon, this was _not_ normal, but he wouldn’t be the coward. He didn’t want to know what they’d say about him behind his back if he ran away now. 

Speaking of things they’ve said behind his back, Benry’s taunt earlier was finally processing in his brain - pretty. Just like _cute_ , another word that’d kill him if he had the capability of thinking about it hard enough right now, these dumb words no one’s used towards him since _Kindergarten_.

Benry had said it, but he was just saying something Tommy said, or something? It was a mess in Gordon’s head. _Was_ it Benry who called him pretty? Benry was… well, Benry wasn’t _ugly_ , not when he showed up in class yesterday, and Gordon had decided that yeah, yeah, that’s... usually his type. Before all the fighting and panic attacks. Before that, Benry was just an averagely attractive goth who hated school. Maybe a little higher than average. 

And maybe it was kind of - Gordon had a habit of developing crushes on people who were terrible to him, so maybe it was normal to not completely hate Benry for what he did. Even if he should. Even if he should hate him, a big part of him was still standing in the back of his head with a megaphone, shouting ‘YOU ARE GAY’ back at him.

Was it healthy? No. Not healthy to develop _any_ sort of positive feelings towards the person who decided they wanted to harass you for kicks. But Gordon’s not a healthy person, so, it’s fine, probably? Probably fine. It’s not like it mattered what he thought of Benry, not if Benry was so dead set on being a terrible person. Wouldn’t even come up.

* * *

Benry was having a crisis in kind. One where, for the first time in a few years, guilt had wormed its way into him. And it was _terrible._ Fuck, it was awful. 

Like, maybe he _had_ taken it too far. Maybe this poor kid didn’t deserve it, he didn’t know. He didn’t know how Benry felt about Tommy, didn’t know that Benry was _terrible._

Well! He knew now.

It was a talent Benry had probably always had, one where he could just… take a joke too far, care so little about another person that he could, ostensibly, fuck them over in any way he liked and feel absolutely nothing about it. Usually this was reserved for people who definitely deserved it (in _Benry’s_ opinion), but this Gordon kid wasn’t - he didn’t fit that category anymore, not after Benry finally thought about, hey, why would this freshman be so fucking afraid of me?

It kind of hurt to run through the reasons in his head. Hurt even more when he remembered that Tommy said Gordon reminded him of Benry. 

He was _not_ a fan of how much it hurt.

He might have apologized by now if he wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t be forgiven, which was something Tommy has already told him is awful to do. ‘You don’t apologize looking for forgiveness,’ but Benry couldn’t begin to think of how terrible it’d be to say sorry and be told to go fuck himself in return. It was too vulnerable.

Benry could apologize to Tommy, if only in his own head, had been doing that for over a year now. Benry wished Tommy would just be the middle man, like he _always_ was. Benry wished a lot of things would happen.

But nothing did. Nothing did. He didn’t pick another fight, didn’t even _say_ anything to Gordon. All for Tommy. For Tommy’s sake. It wasn’t because he felt bad, which, he _did,_ but that wasn’t part of it. He did it for Tommy, went home alone, watched them walk off together, chatting about something Benry wouldn’t be let in on. Private, secret.

He could let it go. For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just some more thoughts. and tommy talking to benry. and then they all go home! i feel like im dragging my feet and im really not feeling great abt my writing as of late. but oh well.
> 
> all ur comments are. so fucking helpful btw youre all so fucking cool and i read EVERY single comment i love reading them. its so helpful when i feel like i shouldnt even bother writing dfskbdfs


	7. got the uhhh...... texts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> texting interlude bc im lazy. texting is so easy for setup and plot stuff. next chapter is freelatta

> did you kiss him.  
> after the date  
> or like what  
>  **Read 10:48AM**
> 
> **tman  
> ** benry it wasnt a date you have to stop doing this  
>  **10:49AM**
> 
> you took him out to get coffee  
> thats a date  
> you didnt answer my question?  
>  **Read 10:51AM**
> 
> **tman  
> ** so?? and what if it was ben  
> what if it was a date?? what kind of fit would you throw then  
>  **10:51AM**
> 
> i wouldnt throw a fit what kind of person do you think i am  
> holy shit you really think that little of me  
>  **Read 10:52AM**
> 
> **tman  
> ** NO!! i dont!! dont make me the bad guy here  
> i shouldnt have, assumed? you would have thrown a fit?  
> but to be fair you have done that twice now  
>  **10:53AM**
> 
> i have not  
>  **Read 10:53AM**
> 
> **tman  
> ** okay  
> im not arguing with you about this i know how fucking stubborn you are  
> im not falling for it  
>  **10:55AM**
> 
> bet gordon would  
> should give me his number  
>  **Read 10:56AM**
> 
> **tman  
> ** why would you think i would do that!!  
>  **10:57AM**
> 
> because you love drama  
> and also so i can  
> apologize  
> or what the fuck ever you want from me  
>  **Read 10:59AM**
> 
> **tman  
> ** if i find out you used this for evil im blocking you  
>  **11:00AM**
> 
> you wouldnt  
>  **Read 11:01AM**
> 
> **tman  
> ** try me.  
> 214 555 0198  
> im serious benry  
>  **11:03AM**
> 
> bet you are.  
> still didnt answer my question  
>  **Read 11:05AM**

* * *

> did he kiss you  
>  **Read 5:15PM**
> 
> **freakman  
> ** Who is this  
>  **5:17PM**
> 
> did he kiss you or what i gotta know  
> you went on your shitty date and he walked you back so did you kiss or what  
>  **Read 5:17PM**
> 
> **freakman  
> ** Benrey???   
> Leave me alone  
> Did tommy give you my number?? what the fuck?  
>  **5:18PM**
> 
> haha yeah tommy told me i had to like  
> "say sorry!!" or some shit  
> also its benry not benrey but whatever  
>  **Read 5:18PM**
> 
> **freakman  
> ** So are you going to say sorry or  
>  **5:26PM**
> 
> just.  
> shut the fuck up and listen  
> holy shit  
>  **Read 5:26PM**
> 
> **freakman  
> ** You arent sending anything??  
>  **5:26PM**
> 
> I WAS TYPING JUST  
> did he kiss you after the date or what  
>  **Read 5:27PM**
> 
> **freakman  
> ** No he didnt  
> Im going to block your number if the next thing you say isnt sorry  
>  **5:27PM**
> 
> sorry youre so fucking sucks  
>  **Read 5:29PM**
> 
> **freakman**  
>  Dont text me again  
>  **5:29PM**

* * *

> **GORDON (cute)  
> ** WHY would you give him my number  
>  **5:39PM**
> 
> oh my god he didnt  
> i told him to apologize!! he said he would apologize  
> i dont know why i believed him ugh  
>  **Read 5:41PM**
> 
> **GORDON (cute)  
> ** No he just bothered me about whether or not we ? kissed? why is he obsessed with that  
>  **5:41PM**
> 
> what did you. tell him  
>  **Read 5:42PM**
> 
> **GORDON (cute)  
> ** I said no! because we DIDN’T what the fuck im not  
> Im not going to fuck with him just for laughs i dont do that  
> I wont stoop to his level  
>  **5:42PM**
> 
> good good i dont know what he would have done if you like  
> joked with him about it haha probably nothing good  
>  **Read 5:43PM**
> 
> **GORDON (cute)  
> ** Wow thats not scary at all /s  
>  **5:43PM**
> 
> hes just… i dont know hes not really interested in me at all he just thinks its like..  
> its funny!!! or whatever!!! he thinks hes very funny  
> which he is sometimes but this isnt something that i think  
> is very. funny. to joke about.  
> hes just. you know  
>  **Read 5:45PM**
> 
> hes overprotective and possessive about friends because he doesnt… have a lot of friends  
> i guess. i can only assume since he wont fucking tell me anything!  
> i wish he would. god i wish he would itd be so much easier if he would just tell me things  
> i dont  
>  **Read 5:46PM**
> 
> i dont know i used to love him so, so much and i still do  
> but now i just feel like hes fucking with me?  
> hes fucking with me, just constantly  
> it hurts a lot i dont know how to deal with him  
>  **Read 5:47PM**
> 
> **GORDON (cute)  
> ** Uh  
> Sorry   
> **5:49PM**
> 
> no oh my god im sorry i didnt really mean to just  
> go off or whatever oh my god.   
> **Read 5:49PM**
> 
> **GORDON (cute)  
> ** No i get it its hard to keep things bottled up  
> Especially if its this serious  
> If you want to talk more? im here?  
>  **5:50PM**
> 
> nooooooo i cant keep putting this on you i barely know you  
> thats not fair  
>  **Read 5:51PM**
> 
> **GORDON (cute)  
> ** Are you sure? because its fine   
> Im 100% fine with listening  
>  **5:49PM**
> 
> actually uh. if youre ok with it   
> can i come over??   
> i maybe really need to be around another person and everyone is busy so!!  
>  **Read 5:51PM**
> 
> **GORDON (cute)  
> ** Like  
> Now?   
> **5:51PM**
> 
> whenever you want i just  
> uhhhhhh  
> nevermind actually you dont have to that was weird?? that was weird  
> didnt mean to make you uncomfortable i just figured uh  
> we both really need someone to talk to and texting is really tough for that  
>  **Read 5:52PM**
> 
> **GORDON (cute)  
> ** I uh  
> I want you to? kind of. i dont know  
> Im out of classes right now so im just sitting here  
> So if you want to you can come over whenever  
>  **5:54PM**
> 
> ok!! im uh, im omw now   
> we can study together i guess!  
> or we can just talk it doesnt matter  
> pet sunkist and chat about whatever you want  
>  **Read 5:55PM**
> 
> **GORDON (cute)  
> ** Yeah thats fine ill just uh. be here  
>  **5:56PM**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tommy, to gordon, who already has a crush on him: i love benry. but he doesnt love me back he just fucks with me bc he thinks its funny  
> gordon: okay can i kiss you now though


	8. oh god dont judge me for this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> freelatta but like what if it was badly written

In Gordon’s mind, there was no greater anxiety than staring at your room and wondering if it was clean enough to have someone over. It didn’t help that his roommate, for all intents and purposes, had _disappeared_ , leaving books and sheets but taking everything else.

To be honest, Gordon had thought long and hard about doing the same a few days ago. A few days ago, dropping out was high on the list of top 100 things to do at college, along with, like, underage drinking and smoking weed for the first time.

Now it’d just feel like… like he was betraying Tommy, in a way. If he left now, Tommy would worry, even though they’d only known each other for three days. It felt like _weeks_. Not to mention the fact that it’d just feel like Benry _won_ , Benry _beat_ him. Chased him out of college, got his wish. 

No, he’d stay. Just to spite Benry, and to keep Tommy from worrying. That was all he had, now. It felt like swapping one weight with another when he realized this, rearranging his desk for the third time while he waited. It was just… two mugs, some pens, and his laptop. There were only so many ways to put things together on his desk.

He cared so much about what people thought of him, something he promised to stop doing when he moved into his dorm. He _promised_ himself. And he broke it this quickly. It’s… sad. It’s sad and pathetic and all the other terrible words Gordon’s ever used towards himself.

His phone buzzed from its place on his bed, and he could have guessed that it was Tommy, telling him he’s waiting outside. No one else texted him enough to even be considered.

A quick glance out the window confirmed it - there was Tommy, Sunkist by his side. He could take a moment, didn’t have to sprint down the stairs again. Could sit and watch him. The windowsill was just high enough for Gordon to lean on it, propping his head up with his hand.

Tommy, of course, was busy texting. Texting Gordon, specifically. He could tell by the way he would finish typing, and, a split second later, Gordon’s phone would buzz. 

He was - well! He was… Tommy. He was Tommy, and Tommy was… a lot of things that made Gordon too nervous to even _think_ right. The whole ‘being nice to Gordon’ thing was the tip of the iceberg. How could you not feel that way about someone so kind to you? This quickly? It was understandable.

Maybe he was grasping at straws trying to justify how he felt, but Tommy had let him grab his hand when he got scared by a stupid fucking random raccoon on their way back to his dorm, hadn’t even laughed, just stayed and helped him calm down - he was fucked. He was so fucked, he was going to _die_.

Right now, though, he had to let Tommy into the building. _Then_ he could die.

* * *

Tommy was on his bed, and that was - it was platonic, he was just sitting there, talking to him, but it was _so_ much to deal with. On top of paying attention and all. It made him feel dizzy. He was just… it was normal. This was normal, right? He’d never had... _anyone_ in his room before, not even as a _kid_ , so he didn’t know. He had no way of knowing.

He had brought his laptop, and his textbooks, and his notebooks, and Tommy kept saying they were going to study. He’d set everything out between them, but neither of them had touched anything. No reading, no _nothing_.

For the past 40 minutes, Gordon had just let Tommy talk. As much as he wanted, about whatever he wanted, which, actually, ended up just being about Benry. Benry, Benry, Benry. They’d been friends since their first year, had been flirting since the day they’d met each other, so close but so far at the same time. It was like a fucked up soap opera plotline. 

“He’s just… hard to deal with. I don’t know. I love him, but I - he’s mean for no reason. He’s terrible, but… he’s not? I don’t know.”

Gordon hummed in response, not exactly knowing what to say at this point. What _was_ he supposed to do? It’s not like he had any experience with whatever this was. Or that he was… impartial in the whole thing, considering how Benry had already made him cry _twice_. He wasn’t qualified to tell Tommy how to live his life, wasn’t qualified to give any kind of real opinion.

Tommy was wiping his eyes, and - oh, God, when had he started crying? 

“No, no - hey, it’s okay.” He reached out, without even realizing he was doing it, to hold Tommy’s hand. To Gordon’s surprise, he let him. “Maybe, uh… he’s just… if you don’t fit together, don’t force it. It’s okay.”

“I don’t know how to be okay with it. He won’t _let_ me be okay with it,” Tommy mumbled, obviously fighting to keep his voice level. It was hard to watch, harder to listen to. Gordon wanted it to stop. “I keep thinking - I move on, and then he’s messing with me again, and I’m back where I started.” 

“Maybe it’s, uh, time to let go? Of him? Like, be friends, or whatever, but he’s - if he’s hurting you for fun, he isn’t the guy for you in the first place.”

Tommy pulled his hand away, climbing down from Gordon’s bed, stacking up the untouched books. Like he was getting ready to leave. “Yeah, yeah… maybe. Sorry to bother you with it, though.”

Gordon didn’t want him to leave, not now. Not if he was still so messed up about this, not if he was going to be so - so upset. He shouldn’t have to be alone with that. If Tommy insisted on staying with Gordon, Gordon was going to stay with Tommy.

He caught his arm, stopping him from unzipping his bag. He was trying so, so hard to sound normal. Please, come out normal. Please. “It's okay, I really like talking to you. About anything. Anytime. Whenever.”

Jesus Christ.

Tommy’s eyes were gold. He hadn’t noticed. How could he not notice? “You’ve… you’ve known me for three days, Mr. Freeman.”

“What? Mr. Fr - nevermind, that’s not... just - you don’t have to deal with this by yourself. I’m not bothered by it.”

“You don’t have to, uh, pretend to care about it. This is a lot to put on someone I barely know.”

“I do! I do care. This _sucks_ , Tommy. You deserve better.” 

The sad smile Tommy gave him was enough to kill, probably, if you could die of being so fucking upset with another person’s situation. It wasn’t fair, Benry wasn’t being fair. If anyone needed proof that Benry was an awful person, they’d just have to - they should be forced to look at Tommy right now. Should have to grapple with that themselves.

He put his bag down, though. He put it down on the bed, right next to Gordon, and moved to stand in front of where Gordon was sitting, where he’d swung his legs out over the side of the bed, ready to walk Tommy out if he needed to. Now he was trapped there, out of nervousness, trying to predict what Tommy was going to do next.

Tommy didn’t move for the longest time, didn’t want to scare him, maybe. Even now, he was worried about Gordon’s comfort, didn’t want to speak. Didn’t want to scare him.

Gordon didn’t know what to say beyond a soft apology, for making Tommy so afraid to do anything with him. He was so, so aware of Tommy’s hand on the bed next to him, how the fuck did he get here? It didn’t - he wasn’t scared, whatever the opposite of scared was. Anxious, but from excitement. This was what that felt like? God, he wanted more.

“Why - what do you have to be sorry for?”

“I made this… awkward? I made it awkward and uncomfortable, because I - you’re so nice to me, and I couldn’t just act like a normal person, I can’t just be normal and not... _like_ you.”

Tommy _laughs_ at him, and Gordon feels like he’s going to melt into a puddle right then and there. Of course it wasn’t that deep, he was reading too far into it, too hopeful that Tommy would be kind to him. Too hopeful that maybe he could make a genuine, human connection. So fucking typical of him. This is why he doesn’t _try_ , why he keeps quiet. Fucked it up again, Gordon! Good job. 

He’s saying another apology before he can stop himself, and it’s enough to get Tommy to stop giggling at him. Gordon knows his face is red, knows he must look like he’s on the verge of tears. He knows how fucking ridiculous he’s being. Ruining a friendship for what? For nothing.

“Gordon, I’m not - I’m not uncomfortable? You don’t have to be sorry.”

“I keep - I’m trying to be too close, too fast, it has to be embarrassing to watch me try to - “

“Hey, no, if it’s, uh, if it’s any consolation, I feel like I’ve known you for - uh, for ages. Some people just click.”

That leaves him quiet, leaves the whole _room_ quiet. Tommy’s busy searching his face for… _something_ , leaning into his space, too far to be an accident. Or maybe it was? Maybe it was an accident, maybe he’s just busy thinking. Maybe he can’t hear Gordon’s heartbeat, loud as it seemed. That’s practically all Gordon can hear, anyway.

Gordon leans backwards, turning his head to the side so he doesn’t have to see how disappointed Tommy’s going to be, laughing like he isn’t so nervous he feels like he’s about to die. “I’ve never - if you, uh - I’ve never even - fuck.”

“It’s okay, we don’t - we don’t have to.”

“I _want_ to, I - Tommy, I - this sucks, this sucks so fucking much. I feel like an asshole. Like I’m trying to - to take advantage of this whole _Benry_ thing.”

Tommy picks up Gordon’s hand, pressing a kiss to the inside of his wrist, over old scars - an apology, maybe. It was - this is too much, too much for him to deal with, but in the nicest way imaginable. Like his head was full of cotton candy, like nothing mattered now except how Tommy was looking at him. 

This was nice. He could get used to this. No one’s ever done this to him before, been so kind and so soft. He knew it was because Tommy couldn’t have Benry, but that… that didn’t even matter. He could be a placeholder for him. He would be so willing to be a placeholder if Tommy would let him. Anything for more of this.

And when Tommy laced their fingers together, cupped his face with his other hand, it was sickening how sweet it was. The cotton candy clouding his mind was melting down the back of his throat, threatening to choke him.

He could be a placeholder, could fill Benry’s shoes. Could be the next best thing. This was fine.

Tommy finally closed that gap, smiling against Gordon’s mouth when he gasped - this was fine, this was _so_ much more than fine, even if he had no fucking clue what he was supposed to be doing. 

It was the same soft hesitation as everything else Tommy ever did to him, same sickly sweet that Gordon was so, so sure he would be craving for the rest of his life. It had barely even lasted a second, and he’d fallen even further. For some guy he barely knew. This was what college was all about, right?

He was going to pass out. The look Tommy gave him when he pulled away was so… apologetic, like he thought he’d made a mistake. No, no. None of that. No, thank you. 

Gordon was a coward, too afraid to make any moves himself - just trying to convince Tommy to keep going, _please_. Trying to convey that with his face alone was so hard, though, and his mouth wasn’t… cooperating. But Tommy could understand the whine he may or may not have let slip, understood so clearly. He didn’t deserve this. No one deserved Tommy, but it was better him than Benry.

Yeah. Yeah, he was going to hold this over Benry later. He might not believe Gordon, but he’d still tell him all about it. About how Tommy had crawled back up on the bed with him, held him so close, kissed him so sweetly, like something out of a romance novel - Gordon hadn’t ever read one, of course, but he assumed this was what happened in them. Fingers tangled in each other's hair, laughing at how awkward all of this was.

Tommy had him on his back when he realized exactly how far they had gone, how long it’d been. He was just - he wasn’t doing anything _extreme_ , just… idly nipping at his jaw, down his neck, chasing the quiet noises Gordon was making, and - okay, maybe this was extreme. To Gordon, obviously. Not to Tommy, who he was sure wasn’t even fully thinking about what he was doing anymore. Zoned out, probably imagining someone else in his place.

That was fine, too. Wouldn’t change the fact that Benry wasn’t the one Tommy was with right now. No matter how much it hurt, after he cleared his head of all the loving touches and, uh, everything else. Motivated by spite, and mostly young love, but, still, a hell of a lot of spite. Benry would get _pictures_. He wanted him to _suffer_.

He almost completely missed when Tommy told him he had to leave.

It took everything he had not to respond with another whine, begging him to stay. He couldn’t. Wasn’t fair to Tommy, to keep him here. Because part of him knew he’d stay if he was asked to. Tommy was _so_ nice.

When Gordon didn’t respond, he pushed himself up onto his knees next to where Gordon was laying. He was looking at him like he… regretted everything, which - not a good sign, probably. He might have still been delirious, but he knew that it wasn’t good when the guy you just made out with looked like he wanted to bolt.

The concern must have been apparent, since Tommy amended his earlier statement - “I just - I can’t, uh - I have a stupid quiz due at midnight, and… I want to stay. But, uh, you know. You know how it is.”

Gordon sat up, too - nodding, because, yeah. Yeah, there was school. Couldn’t just - couldn’t just kiss forever, they had lives. Normal things. Have to be normal. Can’t just hide away and be taught how to kiss – and, uh, other things, maybe? – by a frat boy. Christ, what would his parents think? “I - yeah, I have… to read something, probably.”

Tommy was busy climbing down from his bed, moving his books into his bag, and - haha, he’d fucked up his hair. That was… something. Something he wished he could get a picture of. 

Sunkist perked up from her place on the floor, forgotten. Tommy crouched down to kiss the top of her head, not bothering to respond to Gordon’s stupid echo of an excuse. Dumbass.

Gordon cleared his throat. 

“Do you want me to walk you out?”

“Do you... _want_ to be seen like that?”

“Like… like what?”

“It, uh, it doesn’t matter. You can stay here, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Uh…” Tommy leaned over, kissing his forehead. Somehow, that was the one that was the most embarrassing. “I’ll just - I'll text you when I get home, okay? If you’re - so you don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah. Yeah, see you.”

* * *

> :)  
>  **Read 8:22PM**
> 
> **DONT ANSWER**  
>  ey freakman what does this mean  
>  kinda creepy lol  
>  **8:24PM**
> 
> :3c  
>  _Uploaded IMG86236.jpg_  
>  **Read 8:25PM**
> 
> **DONT ANSWER**  
>  you fuck up? you fall and fuck your neck up? clumsy boy huh  
>  **8:25PM**
> 
> **DONT ANSWER**  
>  theres no fucking way. im going to kill you in real life  
>  i hate you  
>  **8:43PM**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna go ahead and say - i dont know how to write kissing. this is the first time ive ever even HAD to write kissing. i tried to veer away from physical descriptions but i dont like... have the vocabulary to describe it. ive kissed please dont bully me.. just. they kiss. they just kiss and tommy is maybe a lil bit handsy but gordon is 100% okay with it ok. ok. nothing nsfw. dont crucify me i would NEVER 
> 
> theyre just two gays who are vulnerable and maybe they gotta kiss about it. "but hal its supposed to be slow burn theyre kissing after knowing each other for 3 days" did i ASK for your opinion????????? anyway
> 
> for future reference, gordon is freshly 19 and tommy is 21. benry is 22. we're all cool here.
> 
> i write most of these chapters in one sitting, but this one. oh boy. i had to walk away multiple times during it. so if its kinda disjointed or choppy thats why. i physically cannot bring myself to reread it. self care. ahaha dont tell me if i made msitakes i dont wanna HEAR it im suffering just let tommy kiss a boy. let tommy be the mature and experienced one. god.


	9. don't tell me what to do (please tell me what to do)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a mess of bad habits. take your pick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok. so. to avoid tommy smoking, skip the final section. starts w/ "It's midnight." sorry idk how to make it more granular than that
> 
> edit: [EXCALIBAGEL MADE GOOD GOOD FANART FR THIS AU AND IM CRYING??](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/708032558318747689/729444061383098392/college_au.png) *holds this up to u* please look at this. please look. please. im crying in real life

> youre fucked up  
>  **Read 10:22PM**
> 
> **tman (TRAITOR)  
> ** ???????????  
>  **10:22PM**
> 
> like go to therapy or something jesus christ  
>  **Read 10:23PM**
> 
> **tman (TRAITOR)  
> ** ben what are you talking about. what happened???  
>  **10:23PM**
> 
> this is so fucked up of you  
> to do that with like  
> some dude you barely know??  
>  **Read 10:24PM**
> 
> **tman (TRAITOR)  
> ** oh my god are we really talking about this  
> youre going to try and tell me who i can and cannot kiss now?  
> is that what this is??  
>  **10:24PM**
> 
> im not saying youre not allowed to kiss people tommy im saying this dude  
> this guy youve known for 3 days  
> is maybe not like, your healthiest option  
> go to therapy bro  
>  **Read 10:26PM**
> 
> **tman (TRAITOR)  
> ** you dont get to decide whats healthy for me. and you of ALL people  
> dont get to tell ME  
> to go to THERAPY  
>  **10:26PM**
> 
> whats that supposed to mean  
>  **Read 10:26PM**
> 
> **tman (TRAITOR)  
> ** you know what the fuck thats supposed to mean  
>  **10:27PM**
> 
> no i dont. elaborate for me  
> sounds like baby tommys just mad he needs play therapy  
> like some kind of stupid child  
>  **Read 10:27PM**
> 
> **tman (TRAITOR)  
> ** i hate you. i fucking hate you. leave me alone  
>  **10:28PM**
> 
> **tman (TRAITOR)  
> ** i didnt mean that i just. you know how i feel about that  
> im going to bed   
> **11:45PM**
> 
> **tman (TRAITOR)  
> ** benry i know youre reading these  
>  **5:56AM**
> 
> **tman (TRAITOR)  
> ** fine  
> whenever youre ready to talk like adults i guess we can chat  
>  **9:27AM**

* * *

Tommy does not know what he and Gordon are, now. A week and a half later, and he’s been taking him out on coffee ‘dates’ on the regular, but he’s still confused. 

There was this thick blanket of doubt that had settled over everything they’ve done since that night. Heavy and cold, kind of terrifying. He doesn’t know if this is… right? Or healthy? But Gordon looks at him like he’s the sun, and it reminds him so much of Benry. And that should hurt. 

But it doesn’t? It’s nice. There’s nothing Tommy can really… detect in it. He’s known Benry for so long that he knows what the deal is with him, but he can’t spot anything _bad_ in how Gordon looks at him.

They haven’t kissed since that night, but, God, does Tommy want to do it again.

He finds himself thinking about it a lot. It’s distracting, but it’s a mostly welcome distraction from his fight with Benry. He hasn’t seen him since he stopped responding to his texts, but that’s fine. Benry’s been silent for longer, so Tommy’s not worried. Yet.

Date. Dating. He’s supposed to be on a coffee date.

Gordon’s across from him, same table they always sit at, and he’s talking about some physics thing - Tommy would be able to hold a conversation with him about it, but Gordon’s talking so fast and Tommy is too focused on his face, how he’s gotten so much more comfortable being around him. The anxiety gave way to a surprisingly talkative guy. 

He’s cute. He’s _adorable_ , and Tommy wants to… he doesn’t know. Eat him. Something. It’s a new feeling.

* * *

Gordon’s day has been great, thank you. Woke up feeling okay, classes went fine, and now he’s able to just _chat_ with Tommy over coffee without being afraid Tommy will tell him to shut up.

Tommy’s _never_ done that, but every day is a step closer to not fearing it every time he opens his mouth. He’s actually opening up to the guy a little bit. His younger siblings would be so proud.

He doesn’t know how he _couldn’t_ open up, after what Tommy did. It was so… it was the first time anyone’s ever been interested in him like that, and that’s kind of cemented Tommy in his mind as the only person on the planet who he really trusts right now.

Is that healthy? Who gives a shit. Gordon feels dizzy thinking about Tommy doing it again.

He’s in the middle of mindlessly explaining _something_ about equations when Tommy checks his phone and cuts him off, and anxiety attempts to freeze him in place. Oh, here it comes. Tommy’s going to tell him he’s annoying, and that’ll be that. He’s ruined it! 

But Tommy _doesn’t_ say that, no matter how much Gordon’s brain is telling him that he will. He’s smiling with something that Gordon _hopes_ is fondness, collecting the straw wrappers into his empty plastic coffee cup. “Gordon, there’s - you have class soon, you have to get going.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah, I guess that’s important, huh?”

Tommy stands up first. He’s trying so hard to keep the metal chair from making that God-awful noise, scraping against the tile floor. He barely succeeds.

“I should hope so...? Don’t want you flunking out.” 

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Uh - you… you know. It’d make it harder to see you.”

When Gordon finally stands up, they’re a lot closer than either of them calculated to be, really. But that’s fine. Tommy doesn’t back away, and Gordon’s kinda tuning out the fact that they’re in public.

He _was_ tuning out the fact that they’re in public, until he looks past Tommy and through the window.

Benry was walking to class, or something. Stopped in the middle of the sidewalk outside to stare at Gordon through the glass. They make eye contact, and Gordon feels something he hasn’t felt since he sent that stupid text. The way the texts from Benry made him so fucking _smug,_ felt like he was finally the one in power. Like he held it over Benry’s head, like he was getting back at him for the harassment and the panic attacks. Like, to be _completely fair_ , he should be over what Benry did by now. They’re basically strangers. But it felt good to have that over him. 

Gordon breaks that eye contact with Benry, and Tommy’s still looking at him, just him. Not Benry. Just him. It’s only been a second or two. He could just… he could. He thinks he just might.

He has to pull Tommy down by his collar, the tall motherfucker. Gordon doesn’t exactly know how to kiss someone, just knows how to _be_ kissed, but Tommy’s shock fades so fast and Gordon’s back to being the kissee. He’s fine with that.

It’s short, probably. Felt like it was short. He doesn't know how these things work yet, but he's excited to learn. Gordon glances over Tommy’s shoulder when he pulls away, and Benry’s face is more sad than angry. That’s - that isn’t what he wanted, exactly. The look kinda hurts, but that doesn’t matter. 

Tommy’s got some silly grin plastered on his face, and that’s cute, that’s… he did that. Gordon did that. That’s a nice feeling, a lot nicer than trying to decipher the feelings he has about how hurt Benry looked. That one gets locked away.

When Tommy leans back in to kiss him again, he has to duck away, laughing about how he’s going to be late to class. Tommy lets him go. 

* * *

Benry doesn’t go to class like he’s supposed to that day. He sees Gordon, sees Gordon pull Tommy close, sees… blue? Blue. He’s not going to go to classes. It’d only end in disaster.

He’s mad, of course, but it’s actually the sadness of it all that catches him off guard in his room. When it’s quiet, he thinks about the whole thing and wonders - is Tommy happier? With this guy? This fucking… idiot freshman who waltzed in like he was Tommy’s best friend, like he knew him, like he was the one Tommy wanted to talk to? Talk _about_?

He knows he’s going to get shit for skipping classes to think about this in his room, but Professor Coomer and Dr. Bubby were usually kind enough to let him turn in assignments online.

The problem with that was that Benry had _not_ been doing that. Had not been turning things in, had been sulking and crying and sleeping most of his days away. Couldn’t even go to the store to buy beer anymore. Complained about that one openly in his last email to Bubby.

The problem with the _problem_ is that Benry knows he fucked up. He’s gone over it again in his mind. Some stupid biting comment about being a baby, blah blah. To anyone else, it’d be normal snark, but he sent that to _Tommy_.

Tommy told him, about a year and a half ago, about how he felt about that kind of thing. People treating him like a kid, like he can’t make his own decisions, like he’s dumb. Benry got it. Benry _understood_. But, right now, he wasn’t sure if he understood it anymore. Because someone who understood wouldn’t do that, right? Wouldn’t use that against their best friend?

Hurting Tommy in the moment felt good. He wasn’t going to admit that to anyone, especially now that he’s so sure it was wrong, but he can’t shake the feeling that - well, it’s nice to have some control in an argument. God knows he’s been in countless where he’s been some cornered, terrified animal.

But Tommy wasn’t _cornering_ him. Tommy was the one being cornered. Did Tommy _cry_? Did he make Tommy cry?

Oh, God, he’s becoming just like his -

A knock at the door immediately shoves all Benry’s thoughts out of his head. It’s 7 PM. He’s been sitting here for hours. Who the fuck is knocking?

The little peephole thing in the door revealed an older man carrying a 6-pack of beer. Benry couldn’t read the label, but he could read the man’s face. 

When he opens the door, he’s not greeted by any kind of normal _greeting_ , or a hug, or anything. He can imagine the pause is for the crowd to cheer like in some shitty sitcom - and then Bubby says - "You look like shit. What the fuck happened to you? Why haven't you been turning anything in?" And Benry feels like he’s going to pass out.

He doesn’t answer Bubby. He just sits on the old wood floor and waits for Bubby to close the door and join him. Benry doesn’t have anything to say, no excuses to give anymore.

Bubby continues, "I get you're going through shit constantly, but you have to work with us. Harold is worried about you."

Professor Coomer is worried? Shit. "And you're not?"

He pulls a beer from the pack before answering. "I've literally never cared about you in my life."

"Says the guy who brought me beer."

"Hey, this is for _me_."

He pops the bottle open - just a twist cap. Benry grabs the freshly opened bottle from his hand before he can even think about drinking it. "Nah, mine now."

Bubby barely reacts, pulling another bottle out and opening it in an identical fashion. "Fucker. So - what's the newest terrible thing going on in Benry's World?"

Oh, God. Loaded question. Loaded gun, Russian roulette with 6 bullets. No matter what he says, Bubby’s going to think he’s stupid. Fuck.

"... boy problems."

"Tommy? You're fucked up over Tommy again? You can just _ask him out_. Easy."

"We fought. Hurt him."

Bubby’s expression is one of slightly horrified curiosity, and it makes Benry’s heart hurt with the implication. "Christ, what'd you _do_?"

"Not physically! Just… said something I knew would hurt him, and I feel terrible. How do I stop feeling terrible?"

"Is this your first experience with guilt?"

"Huh? No - maybe?"

"Have you tried _apologizing_?"

"... do I _have_ to?"

"Usually people like to hear apologies from people who hurt them. Wouldn't know. I've never apologized for anything." He shrugs, and Benry assumes that it’s the truth. Bubby doesn’t seem like the type to apologize.

When Benry laughs, Bubby smiles. Just a little bit.

"There's also… this other guy, this - "

Bubby groans, sets his bottle down on the floor. His voice is laced with something Benry can only assume is sarcasm. He’s never been good with it. "Two men? Scandalous. By all means, tell me all about your relationship escapades."

"Fuck off. He's awful. He's - he's with Tommy, but he's terrible, he's a bad person. He's ruining my life."

It’s not a lie.

"Aren't you being a little overdramatic?" Bubby looks Benry dead in the eyes, trying to find any clue that he’s fucking with him. Because he has to be, right? Benry’s never met a dude he couldn’t intimidate into a puddle of melted Jello. But he can’t find anything. "Jesus. You're serious."

"He's ruining my life on _purpose_. I don't know what to do."

"Kill him."

Huh?

"Huh?"

"You heard me." 

Bubby downs the rest of his bottle. Benry entertains the thought of where he could bury a body on campus without getting caught. Just for a second, for fun.

"That's a... joke, right? Bubby?"

"What's a joke?"

"Don't. Don't fuck with me like that."

"Just beat him up, Benry. You're an adult. Grow the fuck up and break a few bones."

That’s an idea, actually. That’s a really good idea.

"I - okay."

"And try to turn in your work on time. I don't want to have to fail you again."

"Got… got it. Yeah. Epic."

\---

It’s midnight.

Tommy’s willing Benry to answer his texts, because he’s been doing it every night - he _misses_ him, wants to talk to him, but Benry does not answer. He knows Benry’s the one in the wrong, but he still feels like he has to apologize. 

That’s not a good feeling, exactly. To have your friend speak to you like that and still feel like you’re the one who has to say sorry. It’s stressful! Tommy just finds the whole thing stressful. 

Well, if he’s not going to sleep, he’s going to do _something_ to occupy his time.

In the back of his sock drawer, inside one of the old pairs he doesn’t wear anymore, is his lighter and his pack of cigarettes, the ones he hasn’t touched in about a year. If there’s any time to lapse back into a bad habit, might as well be now.

He _knows_. He knows, he knows. His own brain tells him - you don’t _have_ to smoke anymore, Tommy, it’s _fine_. Stress is something people deal with every day without this kind of thing. But he feels like he’s going out of his mind, and this is a better method of coping than the one he had before.

He pulls his window open, doesn’t want to risk setting off the smoke alarm, and climbs out onto the roof. It’s not a long way down in reality, but, in his sleep-deprived mind, it feels like he’s about a hundred feet off the ground. 

Tommy doesn’t have a fear of heights. He does, however, have a fear of falling to his death. So he stays back from the edge and from what his mind keeps telling him will happen if he slips.

The moon is full, or... close to it. He never learned the phases, not well enough to tell. It’s so big in the sky - too big, if he’s being honest. The moon’s always been too close, too big, too round, too bright. Clingy. But he can’t hate the moon for what it is, because it’s just a big, dumb rock in big, dumb space. Couldn’t choose even if it wanted to. All he can do is sit and think about an article he read last year - every second, the moon drifts further and further away from the Earth. Is that true? Has to be.

If he was the moon, he’d distance himself, too, he thinks. 

Benry is probably up right now, in his dorm on the other side of campus, looking at the moon, too. Benry’s always been so _fascinated_ with it - not all of space, just… the moon. Would drag him out to see it, every blood moon, super moon, you name it.

Tommy misses sitting out here and staring up at it with Benry, listening to him name off all the craters he can before falling asleep. He’s thinking about that as he finally picks a cigarette at random from the carton, putting it to his lips to hold it while he searches the shingles on the roof for the lighter.

A voice freezes him in place.

“You of age? For smoking? Got a smoking license, man?”

Tommy nearly slips down the roofing in shock - fuck, had he _summoned_ him? Speak of the Devil and all, but… Benry always managed to be right outside Tommy’s window when he’s thinking about him. It’s a talent of his.

He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, trying to calm his heart rate down enough to hold a conversation. “Jesus - _Christ_ , Benry, can you - how long have you been out here?”

Benry turns his attention up to the sky, to the moon. His expression is as unreadable as ever, even with all of Tommy’s practice. “Couple hours. Nicest place to look at the moon around here.”

“Do you just… climb the gutter pipes?” Tommy asks, and it becomes apparent almost immediately that this was a stupid question. How else? How else, Tommy?

“No, I teleport. What the fuck do you think, Thomas?”

Tommy’s reaction is immediate and extremely visible, flinching the moment the name is spoken. Only new professors and his father called him that, nowadays. And Benry, if he’s mad enough. “Don’t - I’m not in the mood for that, Benry.”

“What _are_ you in the mood for?”

Tommy turns away. He’s found his stupid lighter, and he’s going to smoke, whether Benry’s here or not. 

Benry wants his attention, though. As he’s lighting it, finally, God, _finally_ , Benry’s repeating his question. Tommy ignores him to take a drag, and, yup - it’s bad. And good, but mostly bad. But no one smokes for the taste, really. Just like no one _drinks_ for the taste, unless they’re a liar.

“I asked you a question, Tommy.”

Tommy mumbles his answer around the cigarette, “Just wanna chain smoke in peace, Ben.”

“You know it’s bad for you.”

“I _know_ , Ben.”

Benry scoots down to sit beside Tommy, now. Picks up his carton of cigarettes, too - some stupid menthols he got up at a gas station in secret. Too afraid of his father somehow knowing about him smoking to even pay attention to what brand he bought. “Fuck up your whole baseball career, idiot. Gonna get - you’re gonna get lung issues. Can’t throw that cool as hell changeup if you fuck up your lungs.”

“You don’t know what a changeup is.”

“I’ve been looking on, uh… Wikipedia. Free online encyclopedia, bro, maybe you should check it out?”

“You never… Benry, you _never_ bother to learn anything about what I like.”

“Not true. Not true, I learned the difference between a four seam and a two seam.”

Tommy tries to blow a smoke ring, but he’s rusty, and it’s more like a smoke-blob-thing. “Because you like when things, uh - when things go fast, not because of me.”

“Not true.”

“Don’t lie to me, Ben - “ Tommy turns to glare at him as best he can, but Benry’s looking at him, too - sad. Distant, kind of. Like he’s thinking too much about what he’s supposed to say next. “Benry?”

He’s tapping his fingers on the shingles, barely sitting still. Whatever he’s about to say, he doesn’t want to say it.

“Not true. Not true, always liked you. Did so much for you. Wanna be a good person for you.”

Oh. Oh? 

“Oh - Benry, I - I’m sorry? I’m - “

Benry plucks the cigarette out of Tommy’s hand, then - puts it out on the roof. Tommy is too distracted to mourn the loss.

Benry’s trying his hardest to smile like he finds the situation funny. Like he’s trying to convince them both to find some kind of humor in it. “Bad for you.”

“Yeah?”

“Bad habit. Bad habit, bad people have bad habits. You’re not a bad people. You’re good.”

Tommy echoes his smile back to him, but not as sad - was this a confession? Maybe. Hard to tell. Benry’s so close, so far into his space it’s _criminal_. Stealing it, or something. Tommy doesn’t know. Doesn’t have the brain power to make up a joke when Benry’s breathing his air.

He’s so sure - so, _so_ sure Benry is going to lean in and do the damn thing already when Tommy opens his eyes, and it’s morning.

It’s morning. Weekend, practice, coffee date. But no Benry.

Criminal. Absolutely criminal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi. long time no see. longer chapter than usual i think. bless this mess.
> 
> ok so if you skipped the section for smoking i can give the tldr:  
> tommy goes out on the roof. hes like lookin at the sky thinkin about... benry. benry is there! wow! they kinda say some mean things to one another but benry isnt really trying to fight and neither is tommy. they get. close to kissing. but uh oh it was a tommy stress dream! uh oh! wuh oh! oopsie! whoops! oopsie daisy! anyway. hi


	10. the big plan (smart and cool)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> coming up on midterms.

Benry is almost certainly not going to kill Gordon.

He assumes. He assumes that he’s better than that, at this point. He assumes that, given the opportunity, he wouldn’t choke the kid out. But assumptions are just that: assumptions. 

He also never meant to be scary to the guy, not any more than necessary. There’s just this - this threatening aura about him, he guesses. Had to develop it early on, since he’s so fucking _short_ and all. All it takes is one kid pushing things too far, and Benry dedicated, like, half his brain to being as scary to strangers as possible.

Bubby’s advice echoes in his mind, though. Kill him. Kill him, beat him up. Break a bone or two. Well, he can do that last one, no problem. Wouldn’t be the first time, and he’s done it for less.

Has he? Is this as bad as an actual bully? 

Yeah, probably. He doesn’t care to think more about it. That doesn’t matter at this point.

He has this whole document on his computer, now. A plan of action. His evil schemes, how to get closer to this annoying kid, close enough to hurt him. Emotionally, physically. Whatever. It’s a good plan. Bubby would be _so_ fucking proud.

> **BIG PLANS. TO HURT FREAKMAN !!! ANY% SPEEDRUN**
> 
> **STEP ONE:** APOLOGIZE TO TOMMY  
> \- this will be hard when was the last time you apologized to anyone dipshit  
> \- have i ever said sorry to tommy  
> \- FUCK  
> \- just say sorry its ok you can do it 
> 
> **STEP TWO:** “”APOLOGIZE”” TO FREAKMAN  
> \- say sorry  
> \- i want it on record im not sorry at all he deserves all of this  
> \- but say sorry and get him to trust
> 
> **STEP THREE:** HANG AROUND THEM OR SOMETHING  
> \- 3rd wheel like a motherfucker
> 
> **STEP FOUR:** BEFRIEND HIM  
> \- be NICE  
> \- act interested in what he likes or whatever  
> \- be nice. be nice be nice be nice
> 
> **STEP FIVE:** KILL??  
> \- kill

* * *

> **Benny ♥♥♥**  
>  hey  
>  **4:43PM**
> 
> hm  
>  **Read 4:44PM**
> 
> **Benny ♥♥♥**  
>  okay  
> you responded fast enough so uhhhh  
> im assuming youre willing to hear me out here  
>  **4:45PM**
> 
> sure. sure ben you have my attention  
>  **Read 4:46PM**
> 
> **Benny ♥♥♥**  
>  im sorry  
>  **4:49PM**
> 
> ..,  
> okay to be honest i didnt expect that give me a second to process this  
>  **Read 4:50PM**
> 
> **Benny ♥♥♥**  
>  fuck you  
>  **4:50PM**
> 
> shut up benry i think this is the first time ive ever seen you apologize to anyone???  
> besides sunkist  
> wow.  
>  **Read 4:50PM**
> 
> **Benny ♥♥♥**  
>  yeah yeah. funny benny guy finally says sorry  
> i get it i fucked up. i said something that i didnt mean and it hurt you  
> okay??  
>  **4:51PM**
> 
> awwwww  
> youre still so defensive even when youre admitting you did something wrong  
>  **Read 4:51PM**
> 
> **Benny ♥♥♥**  
>  dont.  
>  **4:51PM**
> 
> you sorry about anything else while youre at it?  
>  **Read 4:51PM**
> 
> **Benny ♥♥♥**  
>  maybe  
> maybeeeee maybe maybe i dont know  
> i dont like him okay. i dont like him  
> but i get that maybe i was mean to him  
> but hes mean to me  
>  **4:53PM**
> 
> how is he mean to you???  
>  **Read 4:53PM**
> 
> **Benny ♥♥♥**  
>  i uh  
> hes just  
> you know  
> mean  
>  **4:54PM**
> 
> im kinda sick of your excuses??  
> you dont have any reason to make him that afraid  
> you dont know anything about him  
>  **Read 4:54PM**
> 
> **Benny ♥♥♥**  
>  maybe i dont  
> but i  
> i dont know tommy i just  
> talking about this is hell on earth literally  
>  **4:54PM**
> 
> hes just a scared freshman ben  
> you made him so much more afraid  
> hes not  
> like, ok?? hes not ok?? i think  
> like something happened to him  
>  **Read 4:55PM**
> 
> **Benny ♥♥♥**  
>  fine i’ll uh  
> i can try  
> no promises  
>  **4:55PM**
> 
> of course.  
>  **Read 4:57PM**

* * *

Tommy’s picked up his bad habits in full force, almost entirely in response to the only dream he’s been able to have the past two weeks - the roof, the smoking, _Benry_. A kiss that almost happens, but he can never quite close the gap. No matter how hard he tries, no matter how much he wants it.

He’d feel guilty if he wasn’t yearning so fucking hard. He _knows_ he should feel bad, but he also knows he’s in love with the guy, never _stopped_ being in love with the guy, and that’s not _wrong_ , right? It’s not wrong. It’s fine, as long as he doesn’t decide to cheat on Gordon.

Is he dating Gordon? Yeah, probably. Should they be dating? Maybe not.

It hurts to think about, a little. He likes Gordon. He _really_ likes Gordon. He likes his goofy little smile, likes how he looks when he’s distracted studying, likes the taste of the orange chapstick he uses. Like that one stupid song, or whatever. He wants to lay in bed with Gordon forever.

But he doesn’t dream about Gordon. It’s always Benry. Always.

He’s kinda wondering what Gordon’s dreaming about, right now. The guy’s been stressed about midterms, about projects, about everything, so he’s been staying later and later at Tommy’s. Later and later, closer and closer to staying over, sleeping in Tommy’s bed.

It hurts in a different way. In, like, a good way, if that’s possible. He’s snoring, just a little, and even though Tommy can’t see his face from where he’s resting against his chest, he knows he looks cute. Tommy’s seen him nap before. He’s cute.

Fuck. _Fuck_. 

He knows that it’s, like, _normal_ to like two people at once like this. But he also knows he’s got to pick one. And he doesn’t know if it’s healthy to stick with Gordon just because he needs him. 

It’s not healthy, actually. He knows that. No lying to himself, not now. It’s not healthy. Gordon’s relying on him too much, and Tommy’s relying too much on him. Gordon needed a friend, and Tommy had decided to push that. Every time he thinks about it, part of him regrets it.

Gordon’s fine with it, of course, but Tommy isn’t, not fully. He has to… he has to do _something_. This isn’t fair to him, isn’t good for him. And, God, he’s probably going to _cry_ when Tommy finally breaks it off, and Tommy’s going to backtrack immediately, and he’ll probably just, like, kiss him senseless. Try to take away how awful he’s made the guy feel. 

It’s not healthy to try and help him deal with his problems by just making out with him until he feels better, but it’s so hard not to. It’s hard to do _anything_ but stay in bed all day with him. Coffee dates permitted, of course.

He has it bad, and it’s not healthy.

* * *

When Benry knocks on Tommy’s window at 4 AM, it’s not Tommy who opens it.

It’s that freshie. Freakman, whatever his name is, and Benry decides that he’s a big fan of how naive, how _gullible_ the kid is. Dumbass. Who opens a window to a random person’s knocking? At least Tommy would have known it was Benry.

The moment he - Gordon, it’s Gordon, probably. The moment Gordon’s eyes adjust to the moonlight, he’s moving to close the window. Benry grabs his arm to stop him, and the kid flinches, _hard_. Not the baby way, not the ‘oh, I’m closing my eyes just in case!’ Full on, full body.

Is it because it’s him? At least all the intimidation tactics paid off.

He lets go quickly, whispers as low as he can manage to keep him from waking Tommy up, “Hey, I’m not - it’s Freeman, right? I’ve been meaning to - “

“I don’t care,” Gordon seethes. And Benry can _feel_ it. “Go home.”

Oh, little freshie’s got venom. Benry’s suddenly acutely aware of how easily Gordon could push him backwards, back off the roof. It’s not a pretty thought.

He sighs, steeling himself to say what he needs to. He’s practiced this. He just didn’t think he’d need to use that practice so _soon_. “We have to _talk_. Tommy wants me to apologize, so that’s why I’m _here_.”

Gordon considers this for a moment. And then the moment stretches, and Benry realizes he’s waiting for Benry to continue. Okay. This is going fine enough. Not exactly the way he imagined it, but this works.

He continues, trying to figure out where to go from there. “I’m - listen, this is hard. Can you, uh - do you want to come out here? On the roof?”

Gordon shakes his head.

“Come on, me and Tommy come out here all the time. It’s nice.”

He hesitates more to respond this time, and finally puts his hand on the window sill. Struggles to pull himself up, struggles to hook a leg over, push himself out of it. Benry catches him, makes sure he doesn’t slide down the tiles and right off the fucking roof. He can’t help but snort at the way Gordon tries to swat him away, insisting he’s fine. Sure, sure. Your funeral.

Thank God Tommy is a heavy sleeper, because Gordon made some serious noise there. There’s no way he could deal with two people right now. It’s hard enough doing this one-on-one.

Gordon sits down on the tile, obviously uncomfortable with both the situation and the location. “So? Do you have an apology or not?”

“God, fuckin’ - be patient, Freak - uh, Freeman. Gordon? I’m bad at names.”

There’s silence between them for a second, and the sound of crickets is absolutely deafening. 

“And?”

“Okay, so I - this sucks. Uh, I didn’t mean to scare you. I mean, I _did_ , but I didn’t think it’d fuck you up that bad.”

That’s true, at least. He hadn’t meant to do that one thing, specifically, at that point in time. But he isn’t really sorry about that.

Benry kinda doesn’t want to look at Gordon’s face after saying that. He’s afraid of the reaction, afraid he’s not going to be able to pull off this plan, afraid this stupid fucking freshman is going to ruin it all _again_.

Gordon exhales through his nose after a few seconds, not laughing. Just tired, probably. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Just… I don’t care.”

Fuck, fuck. He’s still mad. Is this going to work if he’s still mad? Maybe actually saying sorry would work better, Benry. Maybe do that. Put the plan into action, dumbass. Do some actual work. “I’m - fuck. I’m _sorry_ , okay? I’m sorry. I said sorry to Tommy, I’m saying sorry to you. For, uh, for all of it. For making you afraid, and all that. Just was afraid of losing… of losing Tommy.”

Benry’s eyes are glued to the stupid, ugly roof tiles, the cheap kind, the ones that leak even when they’re new. He feels like he can’t stop talking. “Tommy’s the only friend I have here, the only one who isn’t a professor, so I - it was _wrong_. But I was afraid, and I wasn’t thinking right.”

And that one was a lie. Benry’s never thought something through more in his life.

When he looks back at Gordon, finally, his eyes are a lot softer. Score. Fuckin’ jackpot. Bingo. Whatever people say. Fortnite Battle Royale? Whatever.

“Okay, okay - Benry, it’s… I get it. I don’t know if I can really… just, as long as you don’t do it again? We’re good. I guess.”

“Thank God.”

Yeah, Benry likes how gullible Gordon is.

* * *

> **BIG PLANS. TO HURT FREAKMAN !!! ANY% SPEEDRUN**
> 
> ~~**STEP ONE:** APOLOGIZE TO TOMMY ~~
> 
> ~~**STEP TWO:** “”APOLOGIZE”” TO FREAKMAN~~
> 
> **STEP THREE:** HANG AROUND THEM OR SOMETHING
> 
> **STEP FOUR:** BEFRIEND HIM
> 
> **STEP FIVE:** KILL??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey if i told you i forgot everything i knew abt this fic's plot would you believe me. sorry its short <3 and probably full of mistakes <3 i kept deleting the entire chapter and redoing it so idk whats good or not anymore
> 
> anyway sorry abt no updates ever im simply stupid as fuck and ive been having some bad brain days. more stuff probably soon hopefully. if i dont update this for another fuckin, month or whatever feel free to kill me. i guess.


	11. do you mind having your panic attacks in private

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> someone tell gordon they have a free mental health clinic on campus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for nebulous "i dont wanna exist actually" thoughts

Benry is a lost puppy, or, at the very least, he’s been acting like one.

It’s taken everything Gordon has to put up with the way he’d weaseled his way into every activity he and Tommy have planned, every study session, every coffee date, every time they’d caught a moment alone between assignments - it was infuriating.

Or, it would have been, if he was the kind of person to feel angry about this kind of thing. Because he’s not. Tommy looks so happy having his best friend back, and the way he smiles and laughs at every stupid joke Benry tells? It’s adorable, _and_ it’s contagious. He can’t help but be giggly every time Benry fucks up telling a story, or goes off on an exaggerated rant about a decade-old PlayStation game. 

He’s not even _funny_. He’s not. Tommy’s the funny one, the one Benry’s got to bounce off of in order for things to land. Benry’s always there at the halfway point on some joke, and Tommy’s effortlessly backing him up.

Like now. Like, right now - Tommy taking them across campus for a party, something he’s had to spend weeks talking Gordon into - and Benry’s stopped to throw rocks at a lamp outside Breen Hall, the one with the auditorium.

Tommy had kept walking, but Gordon had stopped, too. To watch him throw rocks at this metal and plastic lamp. One that he’d never manage to break, even if he was getting close with any of his attempts, if that even was the point - because what _else_ could he be doing?

Gordon takes a second - just a second - to process what’s going on, before he asks, “What are you _doing_?”

Hearing Gordon talk so far behind him stops Tommy, too, who looks over his shoulder at him - confused, probably - and then at Benry. And then recognition. Which Gordon sees, and then he instantly, _instantly_ feels like he’s fucked up by drawing attention to Benry’s antics instead of just walking away.

Tommy silently walks up to where Benry’s standing, and Benry hands him a rock - one about half the size of his fist - and Gordon feels like he’s going to lose his mind. He’s going to lose his mind watching Tommy wind up like he’s at a game, and nail this fucking lamp on government-owned property.

There’s a loud crack, but the lamp stands the test of rock-throwing, living to light the campus's sidewalks another day. The rock _does_ knock a few more moths loose, though, and they flit around it like it’s all they can do - because it is. They’re just bugs. 

Gordon can’t help the stupid bark of laughter, the sound he makes before he can help it, because enabling their attempted vandalism isn’t a good look. Not a look he wants to put on publicly, of course. He doesn’t care about the light so much as he cares about someone asking them what they’re doing. He doesn’t think he can lie well enough to get out of that one.

Benry yells “Nice!” at the same time that Tommy mumbles “God, there’s more.”

And Gordon understands, in the most nebulous sense imaginable, that they’re not throwing rocks at the light. They’re throwing rocks at the moths, and the revelation almost takes him right the fuck out, right there, in front of God and everyone.

He’s trying to speak through the wheezing laughter, and he can barely get out a single thought without having to sit down. “What are you - dude, it’s fuckin’ moths!”

The rock throwing continues, despite him bringing attention to it, despite how he’s _this_ close to collapsing onto the sidewalk. Benry keeps tossing rocks that don’t even get close to the cloud of bugs they’ve disturbed, and Tommy’s throwing entire handfuls of the fuckers, and Gordon can’t _breathe_ anymore. His vision is blurring a little at the peripheral, and he’s having a hard time focusing on the stupid light at this point, but he’s fine - this is the funniest thing he’s seen all year. His face just feels a little numb.

Tommy hits the light full force with half a brick, and the metallic _thud_ it makes causes Gordon to wheeze so hard he almost blacks out. 

“You’re not gonna - ” Gordon chokes on his words, his body keeps forcing him to breathe at the same time that he tries to speak. “ -you can’t hit moths with rocks - you - it’s just _bugs_ \- ”

He has to close his eyes, and the sound of rocks hitting the side of the brick building slows to a stop. Safe, at last. Until the moment he opens his eyes, and he’s greeted with Tommy standing over him, holding a broken section of PVC piping, looking the most serious he’s ever seen him.

Tommy holds the piece of pipe out to him, like it’s supposed to mean something to any of them. “If they’re just moths, then how do you explain _this_ , Gordon?”

He feels like he’s going to die, the way he can’t feel his nose or the tips of his fingers, indistinguishable in his brain from panic, and it’s dangerously close. It’s _dangerously_ close, and he could tip into it at any second.

The way Benry bounds up behind Tommy, takes the PVC pipe from his hand, calls it a _donut_ , it doesn’t help. It comes at the exact moment Gordon starts trying to breathe deeper, and it kicks him up into hyperventilating again - Tommy begging him to put it down, no he’s _not_ going to eat it for ten dollars, no one is _asking_ him to eat it for ten dollars. 

He has to close his eyes again, moving his hands to his own hair to dig his nails into his scalp - bad, awful grounding mechanism, if that’s what it’s meant to be. He doesn’t know why he does it, but he might be going a little overboard with it. It sucks. Everything sucks, and he doesn't want to sit here and laugh at this stupid joke that's _obviously_ something they've done before, together, without him - he wants to be back in his room, not on his way to a stupid party where he doesn't know anyone, where people will see him and know he was there.

The laughing and arguing stop, but he could barely hear it in the first place. He can barely focus on breathing, the thing he’s meant to be able to do normally, naturally, like a regular fucking person - and when there’s a hand on his wrist, he feels like he jumps about a foot in the air.

He opens his eyes too quickly, and has to blink too much to get his brain to process his own vision, but Tommy’s there. Tommy’s on his knees in front of him, expression painted with the same soft worry that it always is when Gordon does anything weird. Or wrong. Is he wrong? This isn’t the right way to laugh at people’s jokes, normal people don’t do this.

The waves of guilt start the moment Tommy pulls one of Gordon’s hands out of his hair and cups his cheek, and it’s too nice for a dumb joke. Too nice for the stupid way Gordon’s brain reacted to not being able to breathe. Too nice when he asks, “Are you okay?”

He wants to ask him to stop it, to go to the party without him, he doesn’t even _want_ to go - but the guilt of disappointing him even more outweighs how much he doesn’t want to even exist right now. 

Benry’s looming over them, right behind Tommy, still grinning from his stupid joke - “Baby Freeman can’t handle laughing?”

“Benry.”

“Fine - is he okay, or whatever?”

It takes everything he has to nod before Tommy can keep asking him questions, because he doesn’t want to hold everyone up longer than he already has. He lets Tommy help him up onto his feet, where he only struggles a little to find his footing - and his breathing is back to normal, now, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, right? He’s fine. It wasn’t that bad, compared to every other slight panic he’s ever experienced. Normal. He can be normal.

Tommy hasn’t let go of his hand, though, even if he's fine now - keeping Sunkist on one side, Gordon on the other, with Benry walking backwards right in front of them, and they’re both trying to pretend Gordon didn’t just make an absolute fool of himself.

And Gordon is so, so uncomfortable. He doesn’t like it. There’s nothing about what just happened that he likes, and he wants them to just decide he’s too much work and move on, like everyone else has always done. While Benry jokes about PlayStation exclusives to Tommy, because he’s the wall Benry’s gotta bounce off of, but Gordon doesn’t have anything to add, ever - he’s feeling more and more like the third wheel in their little group. Maybe he's the unwanted one.

He feels like the stupid, useless puppy, and he hopes to God they decide to drop him off on the side of a road somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry? that i? havent been around? i cant write. thats why i just grabbed the moth joke and used that. 
> 
> ive had those fits that come from like. if u laugh too hard at a joke and u got some other nonsense goin on? yeah thatll do it. thatll get u a certified Episode. i said gordon you will have imposter syndrome and then i write him saying "yes, halogen"


End file.
